Between Thorns
by L.C. Carraway
Summary: Lydia Schreave was always daring and carefree. But when her reckless thirst for adventure has terrible consequences on her older sister, Lydia is filled with guilt and regret. Yet the country believes Lydia to be their crown princess now, and they want a king for their future queen. Although Lydia agrees, she has no plan to rule. Instead, she's going to save her sister. SYOC
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** Hello! Welcome to _Between Thorns_ , my first crack at a male SYOC. It's definitely fairytale-inspired and has a big mystical element and is completely, 100% out of my comfort zone, but I hope you enjoy. If you'd like to enter, the form is on my profile. Thank you so much for reading, and please review and let me know what you think :)

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Lydia leaned against the wood of the window frame while her jade green eyes took in the soft blend of pinks, yellows, and oranges that decorated the morning sky. Spring had almost run its course, but in the early hours of the May morning, the air was still brisk, and dew droplets clung to the lawn that sat below the tower.

"It's a beautiful morning," she smiled.

She paused for a singular hopeful moment, her breath suspended in her throat as she waited. But as always, the only response from the tower's other occupant was silence.

She turned away from the quiet. "Mom's birthday is coming up soon," she remarked. Before she could stop herself, she added, "It'll be the third one since…"

A rush of guilt surged through her chest and buoyed her off the ledge of the window, back into the tower and towards the bed. She examined the still girl that had been posed on the soft mattress and luxurious bedding. While people usually remarked upon what a cheerful person Lydia was, the girl had to fight to keep her face from scrunching up as tears stabbed at the inner corners of her eyes. She took one of the cold, still white hands in both of hers and sank to her knees.

"Please wake up, Namie," she tried, ignoring the fruitlessness of the request. A pang of regret quivered through her voice. She squeezed the hand more tightly, searching for even the slightest return of pressure. "Please."

But as she had for the past three years, Princess Naomi Schreave remained soundless and immobile—not dead but also certainly not alive. To the average person, it might seem as though she was only asleep. Lydia, however, knew better. Since the age of twenty-one, Naomi, the once-crown princess, had been trapped, cursed to a world of limbo, under the effects of a spell that seemed impossible to break.

And it was all Lydia's fault.

The younger princess rested her head on her older sister's bed. "I miss the way you used to braid my hair," she smiled sadly, thinking of all the nights she had burst into Naomi's room as a child with sopping wet hair and a request for a Pippi Longstocking style. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to conquer the emotion that was pounding against the bones of her chest. If Naomi could hear her, she didn't deserve to hear Lydia's sadness.

After a single sniffle, Lydia sat up again, perching herself on the edge of the bed and placing both hands on Naomi's forearm. With a deep, determined breath, she squeezed her eyes shut and channeled all her energy.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, Lydia's hands began to glow, and a warmth spread from the younger sister to the elder. She eased her eyes open, and they quickly became enormous saucers of surprise when she saw the way Naomi's too-pale skin had taken on an almost lifelike glow under the light emanating from her hands. It infiltrated Naomi's veins, painting a glowing path up her arm.

Before Lydia's heart could even flutter with excitement though, the glow faded. Frustration filled the princess, and she pressed her eyes shut even more firmly and focused, feeling the energy drain from her hands and to her sister. If she just tried harder… if she could just be stronger…

" _Lydia!"_

When the stern voice broke her focus, Lydia found herself lightheaded from the exertion, and she would have slipped off the bed if Hazel hadn't steadied her. The woman's bright blue eyes were set in disapproval, a strange expression for her usually kind countenance.

"I'm sorry," Lydia sighed before Hazel could scold her.

That didn't stop her from trying. "Lydia," sighed Hazel, " _how_ many times must I tell you?" Lydia shot Hazel a sheepish smile, but Hazel's glare persisted. "You're going to hurt yourself," she declared, "And then what good will you be to Naomi?"

Lydia frowned, her dark eyebrows knitting in frustration. "What good am I now?" she groaned. "What good are these stupid powers if—"

She promptly cut herself off. "I'm sorry," she grimaced.

Like all members of the royal family, Lydia had been blessed with powers when she was young. Years ago, one of Lydia's grandfathers had put an end to persecution of magical beings. As a show of their gratitude and to make sure that such individuals retained their protections, three of the four leaders of the elemental fairies had devoted themselves to the Schreaves ever since.

Lydia knew that she was lucky. While fairies had a full command of magic, they had the ability to grant humans a single power. As it was a draining action that subtracted from a fairy's lifespan, it was an incredible gift. Only those who had earned the gratitude of a fairy, such as Lydia's family, were freely granted them, as such. They could be bought, of course—at an exceptionally high cost—or illegally stolen through the murder of a fairy, but it was known fact that powers behaved best when willingly granted.

Hazel had given Lydia her healing power when she was only a child. Hazel was an earth fairy, the oldest of the three at the palace, and as a result, she hadn't imbued a member of the royal family with powers for two generations. She'd taken a liking to Lydia though, which made the princess presently feel even worse about how ungrateful she sounded.

"I know it's hard," Hazel admitted, a sad smile turning her mouth.

"It's been three years, Hazel," Lydia sighed with a glance at Naomi. "Other than us, no one even knows she existed."

"I never said it would be easy," acknowledged Hazel, "but we'll find a way to break Agnimitra's spell. I promise."

Lydia's frown persisted. "Maybe the Schreaves _are_ cursed," she mused.

Hazel rolled her eyes. "Nonsense," she declared, " _Absolute_ nonsense. Now, are you going to wallow in here all day? Your parents have been looking for you, you know."

"Duty calls," Lydia groaned to Naomi. "See ya tomorrow, Namie." She followed Hazel from the tower, and the two parted at the base of the stairs: Hazel to join Iris and Tallulah in their continued search to free the elder Schreave sister and Lydia to find her parents.

Since breakfast hadn't been served yet, a maid that she encountered informed her that they were in their rooms. She was let into her parents' room by their longtime maids, and she found her father in his favorite armchair, his morning crossword in hand, and her mother sitting in front of an easel that faced out towards the grounds. Although she didn't hold a paintbrush in her hand, the colors on the paper before her gently shimmered between shades as she considered them. Queen Collette had received her chromakinetic powers much later in life as a wedding gift. While they weren't as potent as her husband's psychometry or her children's powers, since they'd received all of theirs at birth, she enjoyed using them to enhance the art skills she'd always possessed.

"Looks great," Lydia smiled as she gave her mom a quick squeeze around the shoulders.

Collette returned the smile, pleased. "Thanks, Lydie," she replied before she swiveled around on her stool. "Where were you off to so early this morning?" she added, "Cohen said you weren't in your room."

Lydia rolled her eyes. Her younger brother, Cohen, took it upon himself to make it his business to know what was happening in the palace at all times. It was ironic, really, given that he, like everyone else, was oblivious to the secret that Lydia and the fairies kept every day.

The night that Naomi had fallen under the spell, Lydia had returned to the palace in a panic. She'd known it was serious when she hadn't been able to heal her sister, so she had gone straight to her parents and the fairies. Lydia would never forget the looks of disappointment that her parents had given her when they heard what she and Naomi had done. When Hazel realized how serious the situation was, she suggested that they take magical procedures to ensure that the country stayed calm and didn't find out.

Together, the three fairies had cast a spell to make the world forget that Naomi Schreave had ever existed. The effect had extended to the royal family, except for Lydia. Since the spell mimicked the effects of amnesia, Lydia's powers had instantly "healed" her. While the rest of her family lived in blissful ignorance, Lydia remembered what she'd done every day.

"I went for a walk," she lied, "It's a beautiful morning."

Her parents exchanged a look that made her uncomfortable. "Something tells me you didn't want to see me to talk about the weather though," she noted.

"No," admitted her father. King Ezra put his crossword down and turned to his daughter. "Do you ever miss Hutton?"

Lydia laughed as she thought of the British ambassador's son that she'd dated last year. "No," she declared, "So if you were planning on doing some matchmaking, please don't."

Her father chuckled. "Actually…"

Collette cut in excitedly. "What do you think of holding your Selection this year?"

Lydia's eyes widened. " _What_?"

"Well, you're going to be twenty-one soon," Ezra explained, "That's when I had my Selection."

"People would be so excited," acknowledged Collette, "but if you don't want to, just say the word, and it's forgotten."

Lydia chewed her lip as she digested the news. Naomi had never been asked to do a Selection because she'd been in a long-term relationship, and Lydia knew if she declined, her parents would protect her from any pressure that Ezra's council might try to exert.

But on the other hand… what if it kept people off her back? She wasn't able to devote as much time as she would've liked to breaking Naomi's curse because of princess duties. But during a Selection, she'd surely have more time. And there was a chance that someone might even be useful to the fairies…

"Okay," Lydia nodded determinedly, "I'll do it."

Her parents exchanged shocked expressions before their faces slowly melted into excitement. "Really?" Collette asked. Lydia nodded again.

"I'm proud of you, Lyd," Ezra declared, "What do you think of announcing it at your mother's birthday party?"

"Sounds good to me," Lydia agreed, although the realization of what she had agreed to had just began to settle on her. Thirty-five men to date? Breaking Agnimitra's spell sounded a whole less daunting all the sudden.

There was also the fact that getting married generally signified that the heir was ready to begin the transition of taking over from the current monarch. But Lydia didn't have any intention to rule, no matter how this Selection turned out. She was going to save her sister, and if a Selected could help her do it, that worked for her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** Thank you SO much to everyone for the support on chapter 1 :) It made me so happy, and I've already started to get some great characters!  Just as a reminder, the deadline to send a character in is June 1st. Thanks for reading, and just to let you know, reviews make my day/encourage me to update faster :D

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Despite how beautiful it was, Lydia had neglected the palace library for most of her life. She liked stories but preferred hearing them read or recounted from memory rather than locking herself away in silence with a book. She had always told herself that she'd read for fun some day when her formal lessons were over, but since she'd become crown princess and her education had turned into more specialized training in politics and monarchial instruction, she still found that her desire to take on extra reading was incredibly low.

Yet in the last few years, the library had become almost like Lydia's second bedroom. Some nights, she even fell asleep face down in the piles of books spread out across the mahogany table that she had claimed as her own. If her whereabouts were ever in question, the library was a good place to begin the search.

As a child, she'd preferred adventure stories, full of harrowing danger, brave protagonists, and ultimately happy endings. But those weren't the books that she scoured now. Instead, she'd taken it upon herself to read every volume on magic that the royal library possessed cover to cover in hopes that she could find something that would help them free Naomi. She was a dutiful study of healing powers as well, convinced—no matter what Hazel said—that if she could just be _stronger_ , she might be able to help her sister.

On this particular Friday night, she was so engrossed in her stacks of tomes that she didn't notice the figure materializing at her side out of thin air until it yelled, "Lydia!" She jumped so violently that her flailing arm knocked her iced tea over, and she had to rush to save a pair of books from its destructive stream.

" _Cohen_." Lydia glared at her younger brother.

He snickered as he dropped into one of the empty chairs at the table. "What are you reading all this junk for anyway?" he asked as he picked up a book called _So You're a Healer: Now What?_

"It's not junk," Lydia protested as she grabbed the book back from him. "If you're ever on your death bed because you got sick or hurt yourself—or someone else hurts you, which is probably the most likely possibility if you keep this 'sneaking up on people' thing up—you're going to be glad I've read all this junk."

Cohen's forehead furrowed. "But you can't heal terminal illnesses."

"Yes, thank you for the reminder," she replied, trying to keep any edge out of her voice. Cohen was four years younger than Lydia and still in the unfortunate teenage boy phase where he said whatever was on his mind. "What are you doing here anyway?" she added. "I thought you were allergic to the library. And books. And any remotely intellectual pursuit."

"Very funny," Cohen commented with a sarcastic roll of his eyes. "I come to bring you dessert, and this is how I'm treated."

Lydia paused at the mention of sweets. "What'd you get?" she asked, trying to hide her excitement. Queen Collette was a very strict advocate of healthy eating and viewed foods with excessive amounts of processed sugar as the enemy.

She tried not to squeal with happiness when Cohen produced two pieces of strawberry shortcake. "Where did you get this?" she wondered as he handed her a fork.

"Bribed a cook," he declared. Lydia paused, wondering if she should discourage her younger brother from bribing people to smuggle banned substances into the palace. But the cake looked so inviting that she ultimately decided against it.

"What's the occasion?" she asked. "Just some casual, Friday night corruption?"

Cohen shrugged and paused in his destruction of his own piece of cake. "Just wanted to make sure you were okay," he explained.

Lydia tried not to let her expression change, but the fact that Cohen had decided to check up on her— _and_ bring her cake—meant a lot. On the weekly _Report_ earlier that evening, her Selection had been officially announced. In the next week, forms from all over Illéa would make their way to the palace, and another week after the announcements were made, thirty-five men would follow.

Truthfully, it was a lot to handle, and she appreciated Cohen's concern. But it also made her feel a little guilty. She had been sixteen at the time of Naomi's accident, yet their fifteen-year-old brother was taking care of Lydia better than she had been able to take care of Naomi.

She forced a smile. "I'm fine," she assured him.

"You know you don't _have_ to have a Selection," Cohen pointed out.

Lydia laughed. "I know," she replied, "But I kind of want to. It could be good for… everyone." Cohen didn't look convinced, so she added, "Do you think I shouldn't have one?"

"It just feels weird, you having a Selection," Cohen explained.

Lydia paused. "The crown princess always does," she reminded him.

"Yeah," Cohen agreed, "I just never really thought that _you_ would have one though."

It made sense, because she never should have been about to hold a Selection since she hadn't been born the crown princess. But Cohen shouldn't have been experiencing any sort of _weird_ feeling at all. Hazel, Tallulah, and Iris had cast the most powerful amnesic spell possible. Every trace of Naomi had disappeared, both physical and otherwise.

"I mean, who else would have one?" she tried to joke in an attempt to throw Cohen off.

But his blonde eyebrows just furrowed lower, like he _knew_ there was a reason for his confusion, but he just couldn't pin it down. "I don't know," he admitted.

"Well, at least we still have a few more weeks to get used to this," she added. "It _is_ a weird situation. But hey, you'll have a lot of guys to hang out with. The Schreaves won't be dominated by women anymore."

Cohen rolled his eyes. "We never have been dominated by women," he countered, "Me and Dad can take on you and Mom any day."

Lydia thought of the way that she and Naomi had always appealed to their mom when their dad had said no to a request when they were younger. He'd never stood a chance. A nostalgic smile tugged at her face. "Whatever you say, Co," she offered.

"Hey, wanna take Bex on a walk with me?" he asked with a glance out the window. "It finally stopped raining."

Lydia tried not to laugh at the mention of Bexter, the labradoodle that Cohen had mockingly named after Lydia's best friend, Bex Hannigan. "Sure," she agreed. She closed the book that she'd spent the last hour on and placed it at the top of her stack, fully intending to return. She'd realized early on that she couldn't spend _all_ her time on Naomi, as it tended to raise her family's suspicions. Prior to her sister's accident, they'd been extremely close-knit so when she had spent the months following Naomi's curse in a panicked and constantly on-edge, always in the library or in the fairies' rooms, her parents and brother had noticed.

The pair tracked down Bex and even came across Lydia's black cat, Vito, who she coaxed into coming outside with them. "That cat is getting fat," Cohen remarked as he steered Bex through the gardens. The sky had begun to darken to the inky midnight blue shade of night, but there were still plenty of lanterns to illuminate the siblings' path.

"He is not," countered Lydia, "He's perfect, and don't you forget it." Lydia had found Vito on the street outside the palace gates eight years ago after he'd been hit by a car. When she'd taken him to the palace doctor, the man had suggested that they find a vet to put him out of his pain, but Hazel had shown Lydia how to heal him. It was the first time that Lydia had used her powers for something more than a cut or a twisted ankle, and to this day, Vito didn't have as much as a limp.

But maybe he was getting a little fat, she noted as she carried him.

"Do you even know what kind of guy you want to marry?" Cohen asked, evidently still stuck on the topic of the Selection. "And how are you going to figure it out without Bex around?"

Lydia brightened at the mention of Bex, her closest friend of eight years. "Actually, Bex is coming back from school for the summer in a week," she announced, "so she'll be here to keep everyone—including you—in check." Cohen rolled his eyes. "But I'm not really sure about guys," Lydia admitted, "My longest experience was Hutton, and that was…"

"A dumpster fire," Cohen snickered.

Lydia tried not to laugh. "He was definitely interesting."

"He was weird," Cohen insisted.

"A little weird," agreed Lydia. She paused. "Have Mom and Dad ever told you anything about their Selection?"

Cohen snorted. "Yeah, at our weekly sleepovers where we paint our nails and watch chick flicks."

Lydia rolled her eyes. "Alright, smart ass," she sighed. "Maybe I'll do a little investigating, see if Dad has any advice."

"Mom's the best," Cohen noted, "so he did something right. Although you should find someone who likes cake more than Mom does."

Before Lydia could agree, Bex tugged the leash out of Cohen's hand and dashed towards a nearby tree. The siblings gave the same exasperated groan before they chased after the often-misbehaved dog. Vito expressed his disapproval of the jostling that Lydia's increased speed caused him by digging his claws into the skin of her forearms. Once Cohen grabbed Bex's leash, Leah unhooked the claws from her arm, frowning at the scratches left behind. She studied them for a moment until they illuminated and the angry red welts quickly faded, like they'd never even existed.

"Freak," commented Cohen as he joined her and watched her arm heal itself.

"Says the Invisible Boy," teased Lydia.

"You're just jealous I got the cooler power," he countered.

"Clearly," agreed Lydia. "What was Bex chasing anyway?"

Cohen shrugged and walked towards the tree his dog had rushed to. He looked around for a minute before he frowned. "Aw, man."

Lydia adjusted Vito in her arms and joined him. "What—oh."

Nestled in the grass was a tiny baby squirrel. Lydia glanced up into the tree and noticed a nest. The little squirrel must have fallen and didn't look ready to run back up the tree of its own accord any time soon. "Do you think it's okay?" Cohen asked.

She handed Vito—who was examining the squirrel much less sympathetically than Lydia and Cohen—to her brother before she reached a hand out. The squirrel looked at her wildly but didn't run away.

When she touched it, Lydia had to swallow back a rush of pain. The animal was certainly injured, that much was evident. While Lydia's power sounded like a cure all, she didn't have the ability to heal _anything_ —that much had been made clear by Naomi. If a malady was too serious, usually terminal, the most she'd be able to do was ease the victim's suffering, though it was something she did with a large physical toll on herself. Now, she focused all her energy on the little squirrel. After a moment, the familiar light glowed from her palm before it lit up the squirrel's legs.

Just when she thought she was going to fall over, the squirrel pulled itself to its feet. It took two tentative steps before it raced towards the base of the tree. A moment later, it was scurrying back into the branches.

As she stood, the world seemed to wobble for a minute before it thankfully righted itself. "It is _sorta_ cool when you do that," Cohen admitted, his gaze following the squirrel.

"Wow," chortled Lydia, "I'm probably one of the few older sisters who have ever heard their brother admit they're cool."

"Enjoy it," Cohen instructed, "It's not gonna happen often."

Since healing normally left Lydia feeling a little drained, she took Vito back and told Cohen she'd see him later before she headed back into the palace. After she released Vito, she took a detour into the kitchen in search of a snack or some sort of pick me up.

Dinner was always eaten a little earlier on Friday's because of the _Report_ , which meant that the hectic activity in the kitchen had long ended. Instead of the expansive staff, there was only a single chef, a friendly man named Tom who had worked at the palace for as long as Lydia could remember. He was one of the nicer chefs, a great cook but less stringent about treating the kitchens like some sacred temple.

"Hey, Lydia," he called when she walked in.

"Hey, Tom," she replied with a smile. She opened one of the large, stainless steel fridges and frowned as she took in the kale, carrots, and healthy juices that were staples in Queen Collette's kitchens. "You're here late."

"Just trying to get ahead," he answered. It looked like he was kneading dough. "Looking for something in particular?" he called over his shoulder.

"Sort of," she admitted, "I just needed a little pick me up."

Tom paused to turn a critical gaze on the princess. "Were you healing in the gardens again?"

Lydia chuckled uncomfortably. "Maybe…?"

In the immediate aftermath of Naomi's curse, Lydia had felt particularly useless. When she realized that she couldn't heal her sister—though it wasn't for lack of trying on her part—she'd turned her attention to anything. She volunteered at children's hospitals, she'd visit the Angeles National Park in search of hurt animals, she'd even aimlessly meander through the gardens bringing crumpled flowers back to their previous beautiful existences.

And then, for the first time in her life, she'd gotten sick. She'd expended so much energy on everyone else that her body had nothing left. When it took a week for Hazel, Tallulah, and Iris to nurse her back to health, Ezra and Collette banned her from excessive abuse of her powers. Everyone in the palace knew, and if they ever saw her tossing around her abilities willy-nilly, they were expected to inform her parents. It was a little overbearing, but Lydia knew that it came from a good place so she tried not to get too annoyed when one of them decided to stop by to remind her to exercise restraint.

More so than anyone else in the palace, Tom was often the person who noticed when Lydia had used more energy than she should have, because she always ended up in the kitchen trying to regroup. But instead of ratting her out, he would just give her the disapproving look she was faced with now and pause whatever he was doing to get her a snack. If she was particularly lucky, sometimes it was even something that wouldn't have passed Collette's healthy standards.

Today, tacos were on the menu, and Lydia slumped into one of the seats at a small table in the corner while she waited. The evening newspaper had been deposited on the table, and she grabbed it, wondering if there had been a write up about the Selection yet. But she froze as soon as she noticed the headline.

 _Second-In-Line, First Engaged! Italian Prince Benedetto di Angelo to Marry._

Her heart plummeted, and any exhaustion that she'd been feeling was instantly replaced with panic. "What?!" she screeched, causing Tom to jump and drop the tortilla he had been toasting.

The worst part was that he looked happy, excited even, as he waved at the crowds that had gathered outside the Italian palace. At his side stood a beautiful New Asian princess. As Lydia scanned the article, she discovered that the princess was named Jia and was a granddaughter of the current New Asian emperor. There were words like "very excited" and "happy couple" and "their future together", but none of them made any sense to Lydia.

"Lydia?"

She reluctantly looked away from the article. Tom's eyebrows were furrowed with concern. "I said do you want salsa or guacamole?"

"Neither," she decided. "Uh, I have to do something. Thanks though, Tom."

Adrenaline powered her through the palace until she reached the common room that linked Iris, Hazel, and Tallulah's rooms on the third floor. "Guys!" she yelled as she banged into the room, "We have an emergency—"

But she frowned when she realized there was no one there. Some kind of liquid was stirring itself in midair, a sign that Tallulah had been in the room at least somewhat recently, but there was no trace of any of them. Lydia crumpled the newspaper in her fist in frustration and put a hand to her forehead.

After a deep sigh, she decided to stop in and see Naomi until the fairies returned. She took the fourth door out of the common room, the one that led up a winding flight of stairs into Naomi's tower.

It turned out to be a terrible idea, as her panic over the impending Italian nuptials combined with the guilt that seeing Naomi's still form always caused. Lydia sighed as she crossed the room and slumped to the floor against the bed. "I don't know what to do anymore," she confessed to her sister's unconscious form.

She gave herself a single tear of frustration before she wiped it away with the back of her hand and pulled herself onto the bed. She reached for the hairbrush that was kept in the drawer of the bedside table and pulled it through the ends of her sister's golden hair. It might've been dumb to do things like brush Naomi's hair or paint her nails, since she never moved and therefore didn't muss either of them, but Lydia couldn't help it. Sometimes, it felt like Naomi was just a case study, especially when the fairies were all bent over her examining her vitals and things like that. But Lydia tried to keep Naomi ready for the day that she woke up and returned to her life.

However, as she leaned closer to Naomi's face, Lydia paused. She'd seen Naomi every day for three years. And every day for three years, Naomi had looked the same.

But not today.

Although Naomi was as still and unresponsive as ever, there was a definite change: her lips were tinged with purple, almost like they were bruised.

Lydia dropped the brush and put her hand over Lydia's mouth. It caused little black spots to dance in front of her eyes, but she focused until light glowed on Naomi's face. The bruise disappeared, and Lydia let herself exhale.

Until it returned.

Fear flooded Lydia as she grabbed Naomi's arm. It didn't feel like Naomi was in any pain that Lydia could alleviate, but that was little comfort at the moment.

"Hazel?" Lydia yelled. She tried to heal the bruise again. It reappeared after another minute. "Tallulah? Iris?"

"We know."

She turned to see the three standing in the doorway, their faces grim. "Tallulah noticed it this morning," Hazel explained.

"And no one told me?" Lydia demanded as she rose and turned to them with crossed arms. "Why's it happening? Is something the matter with her?"

While Hazel, as the earth fairy, had always had the most calming presence, Lydia didn't feel comforted when the older woman put a hand on her shoulder. "We're not sure," she admitted.

"We have a theory," admitted Tallulah. Hazel glared at her.

"What is it?" Lydia asked, her stomach sinking.

Hazel was still busy glaring at Tallulah, who looked no more equipped to elaborate. Iris nervously began, "Three years is a long time for a sleeping curse."

"There have been others," pointed out Lydia, "Longer than that even."

"None of them cast by Agnimitra," Hazel countered in a soft voice. "She was the most powerful fire fairy there's ever been."

It felt like all the blood in Lydia's body had been replaced with ice. "So, what are you saying?"

The three exchanged a look before Tallulah tried again. "We think… well, it's possible that maybe… Hazel… perhaps…"

"We think her body is dying," Iris supplied.

The stress of the last few hours caught up with Lydia. It was a good thing she had the ability to heal herself, because her legs failed her, and her unconscious body collapsed to the stone floor before anyone could try to catch her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note** : This chapter is a little shorter, but if you've ever read one of my stories before, you know they'll definitely beef up as we go on. In other news, the SYOC is officially closed! Thank you to everyone who sent in characters. Some have been announced, and the rest will be up before the next chapter is posted sometime next week. There is a Selected in this chapter, so as always, I'd love to hear thoughts :) Thanks to everyone who reads/reviews/etc. :D

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It didn't take an empath to realize that Lydia was in trouble when her parents cornered her in her bedroom. "Lydia Asphodel Schreave, _what_ did you do?"

Her first thought was they were going to need to be more specific, considering the multitude of secrets that she'd been keeping from them for the last few years. But she didn't point this out, instead just turning an unsuspecting smile on them. "Good morning to you guys too!"

While her father had seemingly endless reserves of patience and her mother was a master of calm, Lydia wasn't comforted by either of their expressions at that moment. Ezra pulled a letter from the inside pocket of his tan suit jacket. "'Your Esteemed Royal Majesties,'" he began. Over the top of the letter, he glared at Lydia, who had squeaked in excitement when she realized that the reply had already arrived. "'Princess Jia and I offer our sincerest thanks for your congratulations on our upcoming union. It was very kind of your family to reach out and such a joy to see that Italian and Illéan relations are still strong after all these years.'"

"That sounds like a very nice letter," Lydia interjected, "Don't see what I could possibly be in trouble for—"

"'Further,'" continued Ezra forcefully, "'we gratefully accept your invitation to visit Illéa in the coming weeks. Princess Jia and I understand that your country is celebrating a very exciting time with Princess Lydia's upcoming Selection and are honored to be afforded the opportunity to travel, join the festivities, and learn more about Illéan culture. Wishing you the best until our arrival, Prince Benedetto di Angelo.'"

Collette crossed her arms. "Lydia, why is Prince Benedetto coming to Illéa?"

Lydia became very busy with situating her blush colored hat over her wavy hair. "It sounds like he wants to do some traveling and learn more about Illéan culture—"

" _Lydia._ " The tone of Ezra's voice implied that he did not appreciate her evasiveness.

The princess paused as she considered the response. "Wait… did the letter say, 'our arrival'?"

Collette raised a perplexed eyebrow but took the letter from her husband. "Yes," she confirmed, "'Wishing you the best until our arrival'—"

Lydia's eyes widened in surprise, and she dropped the hat. "They're _both_ coming?!" she demanded. "But I only invited Ben!"

Her parents both threw their arms up in exasperation and chorused, " _Lydia!"_

Ezra pinched the bridge of his nose. "Why are you inviting an engaged foreign prince to Illéa when your Selection is supposed to start anyway?"

Concern etched a frown into the queen's face. "Lydia, if you… have feelings for this prince, perhaps—"

"Ben?" Lydia laughed. "Ew, no!"

Her parents both visibly relaxed. "Then what on earth were you thinking?" sighed Ezra. "This doesn't exactly look the best, Lyd."

She chewed her lip as she tried to think of a believable lie. Naomi had always been better at fabrication than her younger sister. "It's just…" It felt like her brain was completely blank. "I thought that…" _Think, Lydia, think!_

But before she could stammer through a half-baked lie, a body appeared at her side. The shock momentarily distracted Ezra and Collette, though not as much as Lydia, who almost toppled over in her heels. "Cohen!" the other three Schreaves complained in unison.

"Foreign relations," Cohen promptly supplied.

Ezra's forehead wrinkled. "What?"

"That's why Lydia invited Prince Ben," he explained.

Collette didn't look fooled. "Oh really?"

"Yep," confirmed Cohen. Lydia glanced at her brother in confusion, and he gave her a 'go with it' face.

"Yes!" agreed Lydia. "Foreign relations. Strictly platonic foreign relations."

Ezra clearly wasn't buying it either. "You decided to work on your foreign relation skills with the non-inheriting, recently engaged prince of a country that we're already allied with?"

Lydia nodded slowly, trying not to think about how ridiculous it sounded. "Yes, I did."

The king and queen exchanged an unimpressed look before Collette heaved a sigh. "We don't have time to keep doing this," she admitted, "We're going to be late for the race as is."

"Saved by the bell," Lydia muttered to Cohen as their parents ushered them from the room.

"You really need to get better at lying," Cohen shot back. "Isn't that, like, half of being queen?"

"What? No," countered Lydia. "And for the millionth time, _stop_ sneaking up on us while you're invisible. It's not fair."

Cohen rolled his eyes. "That's like telling you not to heal yourself when you get a paper cut. We work with what we've got, Lyd."

"Not fair," Lydia muttered, "Papercuts hurt."

Their bickering was cut short as they were ushered into the black SUV that would whisk them to the nearby Thundering Downs Race Track. One of the biggest races of the season, the Porter Cup Classic, was being run that afternoon, and although Lydia didn't follow racing closely, the royal family usually attended due to its popularity and proximity to the palace.

This year Lydia was a little more interested than usual, as her best friend's family had a horse running. She hadn't seen in Bex in months since her friend had been home from college for Christmas break. Bex attended Covington University in Waverly, a school that she and Lydia had once dreamed about going to together. Once Lydia had been forced to step up as crown princess in Naomi's absence, she'd had to give that dream up, but she still pressed Bex for every detail possible whenever her friend returned to Angeles. With the Selection on the horizon, the girls had even more to catch up on than usual.

As soon as the guards had cleared the entrance for the royal family, Lydia began scanning the crowds for Bex or one of the Hannigans that could point her in her friend's direction. Bex had an interesting sense of style, the kind that could be spotted from a mile away usually, so when Lydia didn't see her, she decided to check the stables. "I'll meet up with you guys," she told her parents before she hurried off before they could order her to take a guard. Her hat provided her with enough anonymity that most people didn't give her a second glance as she navigated the track.

The stables at Thundering Downs were nicer than even those on the palace ground. Immaculate was an understatement. Constructed of a handsome, dark wood and featuring vaulted ceilings, they seemed like any horse's dream, in Lydia's opinion. Although the track had been there for years, it was like the stables had just been constructed. The aisle was spotless, the stalls were roomy, and the only thing that she could smell was a sweet, woody scent.

There weren't even many horses around, and she realized that most of them must've been out in the paddocks being saddled for the race. "Bex?" she called.

For a moment, there was no response before a large, black creature stuck his head over his stall door. He gave a soft whinny, as if to inform Lydia that Bex was, indeed, not there. "Thanks," Lydia chuckled.

The horse bobbed his head in acceptance of her thanks. She glanced at the name plate next to his door. "Seamus, huh?" she concluded. The horse whickered, and Lydia crossed to the stall to gently run her hand down the white blaze on the horse's face.

"Hey!"

Lydia jumped at the voice. It was much sharper and authoritative than the tones that people usually directed towards her, and something about that intrigued her. She glanced over her shoulder. A man—boy?—limped down the barn aisle towards her, dressed in tattered jeans, a dust splashed t-shirt, and a ratty flannel. He had messy brown hair, sharp cheekbones, and a scowl that furrowed his brow and turned down his mouth. His limp was prominent, and the grimace that each step caused him suggested that it was from an injury that had yet to heal.

Despite his obvious displeasure, Lydia gave him a warm smile. This only made the frown to deepen, to the princess's amusement. Clearly, he either didn't recognize her—large derby hats could cause such mistakes—or had no clue who she was to begin with. Both were occurrences that Lydia rather enjoyed, as they resulted in some interesting interactions. It wasn't often that she got to be normal.

"Just saying hi," she explained, her statement punctuated with a pat of the horse's neck. "Are you his owner?"

He shifted from his left leg to his right, though Lydia couldn't tell whether his discomfort stemmed from his injury or her attempt to engage in conversation. "No. I just ride him," he explained.

"So, you're a jockey!" Lydia concluded, turning fully to face him.

"And you're chatty," was all he responded as he brushed past Lydia and entered the stall. He said it in a disdainful way, the way a parent might comment on their child's untidy appearance or a teacher would note a pupil's poor academic progress.

She ignored the comment. "Are you riding him today?"

He sighed, clearly disappointed that she hadn't left yet. "If I was, we'd already be dressed and in the post parade," he pointed out. He ran his hands deftly over the horse's legs, like he thought Lydia had somehow caused him injury by petting him. When he finally seemed satisfied, he shot her one last frown before he pulled a curry comb from the pocket of his jeans and began to brush it over the horse's flank.

Lydia crossed her arms, a little off-put by his gruffness. "All you had to say was no."

"Listen, Moneybags," he began with a chuckle, pleased by the nickname he'd come up with for her on the fly.

Lydia, on the other hand, was decidedly less entertained. "Moneybags?" she repeated. It was her turn to glare.

"Why don't you just head on up to your fancy box now?" he offered. "The champagne and caviar are probably starting to freeze in the air conditioning."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "For your information, I am a vegetarian," she declared, "and I don't eat caviar."

He smirked as he bent to pick the dirt out of the horse's hooves. "Not denying that box bit, eh?"

She decided to ignore him. "This is a public stable," she pointed out, "and I like this horse, so you're just going to have to deal with me."

He glanced over his shoulder at her. His brown hair looked a little overgrown, like it was desperately in need of a trim, and it flopped into his eyes a little. "This horse?" he snorted. "You couldn't even name one technical thing you liked about him, Dollar Signs."

After shooting another glare at the groomer, Lydia considered the horse. She'd loved animals as a child, but the man had a point. She racked her brain for any horse related word that sounded impressive. "For your information," she began, trying to buy herself time, "he has a very nice…" She chewed her bottom lip as she thought. Finally, her eyes settled on the horse's handsome face. "Fetlock!" she decided triumphantly.

Instead of looking impressed, another sly grin slid over the guy's face. "Wow, you got x-ray vision?" he asked.

"What? No," countered Lydia, a little perplexed.

"Hate to burst your bubble, Rica, but the fetlock is down there," he explained, pointing to the bottom of the horse's leg, which Lydia couldn't see because of the stall door. "You meant the forelock, huh? I saw you looking at his face." Lydia blushed, as he was spot on. "No use trying though," he continued as he raked the brush over the horse's flank. "There ain't any good 'technical' things about this horse anyway. He's too short, too slow, and getting too fat."

She rolled her eyes. "That doesn't mean he's bad," she pointed out, "You clearly like him."

"No one ever said I had a lot of sense," he quipped.

She was about to agree with him—and add that he didn't have a lot of friendliness either—when there was an excited noise in the doorway that startled Lydia, the jockey, and Seamus. "Lydie!"

The excitement with which Bex threw herself at her friend nearly knocked the air out of Lydia's chest, but she recovered by wrapping her arms around Bex in return. "You got highlights!" Bex exclaimed. "I love your dress! I'm so happy to see you!"

Every reunion that Bex and Lydia shared whenever Bex returned to Angeles had a unique habit of making Lydia happy and sad at the same time. On one hand, she had her best friend back. On the other, it was a sore reminder of her sister's absence, as Bex brought a small taste of the comforting warmth that Naomi had always radiated. Lydia squeezed Bex tighter.

"You look amazing," Lydia complimented when they finally parted. Bex was dressed in a vibrant blue, yellow, red and white dress with a busy print. It was perfect for the race, as the pattern featured the profile of a horse right in the middle of Bex's chest. An equally bright red Derby hat and patterned belt—Lydia had no clue how Bex ever found things like patterned belts—completed the ensemble.

Bex gave a spin. "Why, thank you!" she beamed. "I brought some _amazing_ things home for you as well." Bex was working towards her degree in fashion design at Covington and always returned to Angeles with an army of clothes.

"I don't know whether to be excited or scared," admitted Lydia with a chuckle. She smiled as she took in her friend's appearance. "Bex, it's so good to see you—"

"Hey, Mary Kate and Ashley," the jockey interjected, "this is a barn, not a sorority house."

They both paused and turned back towards the stall. Seamus looked affable as ever, but his jockey's eyes were narrowed, and his body language screamed irritated. As soon as Lydia saw the way that Bex's eyebrows arched and the indignation written on her friend's face, Lydia knew things were about to get dicey. "Excuse me?" Bex demanded.

In a mismatched response, he sighed again. "Why do girls always have sidekicks?" he mused as he combed Seamus's mane.

Bex's eyebrows practically melded with her hairline. "A _sidekick_?"

"Yeah," shrugged the jockey. "You know, it's just pretty clear that she holds your reins." He gestured from Bex to Lydia with the comb in his hand.

Bex crossed her arms over her chest and cocked her head to the left, as she usually did before she let someone really have it. Lydia put an exasperated hand to her temple. "I'm sorry, but do you even know who _she_ is, you track rat?" Bex demanded.

The jockey's eyes narrowed at the name, as though it was one that he'd heard before and didn't enjoy. "No, but I'm sure you're about to call your daddy so he can catch me up to speed," he shot back.

"For the love of everything, I was just trying to pet a horse," Lydia mumbled to herself. She held up her hands. "Hi, hello? We're not doing this," she declared. She grabbed Bex's arm. "It was nice to meet you…" She paused, but the jockey didn't make a move to supply his name. "Okay, you know what, it was nice to meet you, _Seamus_ ," she declared, giving the horse one final pat. Without another word to the jockey, she turned and steered Bex towards the door.

"See ya around, Moneybags!" he called after her before they could get too far away. "Might want to try a curb bit with that wild mare of yours."

Bex almost paused to respond but clearly decided against it and allowed Lydia to continue to steer her forward. "Ugh, doubt it, luckily," she muttered. "What a rude—"

"Forget about it," Lydia urged, "We have bigger problems."

"Oh yeah!" agreed Bex. Once they were clear of the stables, she paused, causing Lydia to stop as well. After glancing around to make sure that they were alone, Bex punched Lydia in the arm.

"Ow! What was that for?!" Lydia demanded as she grabbed her bicep. It was more of a reflex, since the pain from Bex's punch had already faded. She knew there wouldn't be a bruise either. A prized fighter could've hit her, and her power would still ensure that she recovered quickly and flawlessly.

Bex glared at her oldest friend. The two had met as children, since Collette had been good friends with Mrs. Hannigan before she'd become queen, and the young girls had quickly become best friends. But that didn't mean that they didn't clash on occasion, especially since Bex's saucy, sarcastic personality tended to rock the boat. The guilt that keeping Naomi's current state a secret caused Lydia hadn't helped their occasional tiffs much in the last few years either.

"You just announce a Selection without giving me a heads up?" demanded Bex.

"Oh." Lydia exhaled, as she always did when she realized that someone's displeasure with her had nothing to do with her big secret. "I'm sorry," she tried to placate Bex, "My parents sort of sprang it on me, and I said yes and was going to tell you, but then it was announced before I really knew what was happening."

"But do you _want_ to do it?" Bex prodded. Any anger had disappeared, and in its place was a look of concern that only made Lydia's guilt grow. She didn't deserve a friend that cared so much about her when all she did was lie to Bex. "We've never talked about you having a Selection before now," Bex added.

 _Because I wasn't supposed to_ , Lydia thought, her stomach churning. "Yeah, it's fine," she shrugged. "Gotta do what I gotta do, right?"

The concern became more prominent. "You seem oddly chill about this," Bex noted.

Lydia shrugged and started to walk again, eager to leave the conversation behind. "I mean, it worked out for my parents," she pointed out, "and what's the worst that can happen?"

"Yeah," interjected Bex, "because guys are never psychotic or liars or players or secretly gay or creepy—"

Lydia paused. For the first time in years, she had a fear that wasn't related to Naomi. "I didn't think about that…" she admitted as she tugged at her necklace in one of her nervous ticks.

But Bex seemed to realize that she wasn't helping and threw an arm around Lydia's shoulders. "Don't worry," she countered, "I'm home for the summer, so I'm going to be here the whole time to help you! If there are any psychotic, lying, secretly gay, creepy players, I'll weed them out."

A small smile tugged at Lydia's face. "Thanks, Bee."

"Now, come on," urged Bex, "we still have some time to charm the bartender into some free mint juleps before the race starts." Despite the fact that her family wealth rivaled that of the Schreaves, free things were one of Bex's deepest loves. Lydia laughed but followed her friend, discretely leaving large tips as she always did when Bex did manage to use her charisma to her advantage.

The race was short, as always, but thrilling. Tucked away in the box that the Schreaves shared with the Hannigans, Lydia found herself yelling at the top of her lungs as she cheered the Hannigan's horse on, momentarily distracted from the plethora of problems that were currently hampering her life. The Hannigan horse came in second, which old friends Collette and Fiona Hannigan took as an excuse to celebrate.

But when they arrived back at the palace and started to retreat to the Women's Room for the post-race party, Lydia quietly tried to slip away. "Where are you going?" Cohen asked, his gaze suspicious.

"Uh… headache," Lydia lied. "I'm gonna go find some medicine and take a break. Distract Bex for me?"

While Cohen clearly didn't buy his older sister's lie, harassing Bex Hannigan was one of his favorite past-times, so he eagerly nodded in agreement. Lydia waited until Cohen had faded into nothingness, using his power to conceal himself as he stepped on the back of Bex's sandals all the way down the hall. She rolled her eyes at his childishness but took the chance to hurry to the third floor.

Tallulah was the only one present when Lydia slipped into the fairies' common room, but her face was buried in a book so intently that she hardly took notice of the princess. She raised a distracted hand in greeting, which Lydia echoed before she took the stairs two at a time to Naomi's room.

Since the latest revelation about Naomi's condition, Lydia lived in a constant state of terror until she saw her sister. Hazel had assured her that Naomi's decline was slow, but it felt like she could wake up any day, and Naomi could just be gone. It didn't seem so outlandish to Lydia, as the bruises continued to spread over Naomi's body more and more every day.

Although she'd been scolded and told how fruitless it was many times, Lydia took Naomi's hand as she sank to the floor next to the bed. The angry, purple marks now covered the tips of every single one of Naomi's fingers. Lydia closed her eyes and focused.

When she opened her eyes, the hands clasped in hers looked perfectly healthy. But as soon as she released them, the bruises returned. Lydia tried not to feel too disappointed in herself as she rested her head against the bed.

"Ben is coming," she told her sister. She wasn't sure whether that would be any comfort to Naomi, if she could hear Lydia at all. She decided to strategically conceal the fact that he was bringing his new fiancée with him.

Her hand absentmindedly drifted to the starfish necklace that always hung at her throat. "Do you remember the summer that we spent in Italy?" she asked Naomi.

She paused, as always. There was silence, as always.

One of the most painful parts about the sister's current predicament for Lydia was the fact that all her best memories included Naomi. Now, a blissful summer spent on the Amalfi coast with Ben and Naomi brought tears to her eyes. "We said we were going to leave Illéa to Cohen and just live in the Tyrrhenian sea," she remembered with a sad chuckle. " _The Little Mermaid_ was always your favorite."

Things had been so easy then—the type of easy that you never recognized until it was gone forever.

"I'm gonna figure it out, Namie," Lydia promised her sister. "Ben, this Selection, Agnimitra… everything. I promise." She kissed her sister's bruised hand before she stood, wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes, and forced the corners of her mouth upward into a convincing smile before she left the tower.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:** The first chapter with all of the Selected! Thanks to everyone who submitted, I had incredible guys and some hard choices to make. I think I'm obsessed with every character I chose, so this is going to be challenging. Enjoy this chapter, and let me know who your faves are :D

* * *

One of Lydia's favorite things about having a sister had always been helping Naomi get ready for events. Lydia had always believed her sister was the most beautiful person in the world—even more so than their stunning Aunt Avery, a well-known model herself. She would lounge on Naomi's bed in awe as her sister dressed in whatever custom-made gown had been commissioned for her that night, or suggest pieces from the extensive collection of crown jewels that was always available for the princesses. They would giggle and gossip until Naomi disappeared in a cloud of glamour and elegance. And the following morning, the entire world would join Lydia in agreement as papers and news programs lauded their lovely crown princess.

But now, Lydia was the crown princess, and there was no Naomi to help her. She was usually joined by at least one of the fairies or her mother—today she had a whole entourage that included Bex, Mrs. Hannigan, and Aunt Avery in addition to the usual crowd—but whenever Lydia was getting ready to play her role on a large, public stage, she could've been surrounded by an army of people and still would have felt Naomi's absence ardently.

"You look so beautiful, Lydia," Avery Schreave complimented her niece.

Lydia studied her reflection. Bex had helped her pick a cerulean top and a coordinating floral patterned skirt that showed the slightest hint of her torso, and Lydia had liked it when they picked it. But now, all she could think of was how much better it would have looked on Naomi. Having an older sister certainly hadn't been without its drawbacks. She forced a smile though. "Thanks, Aunt Avery."

Hazel saw through Lydia's mask of confidence. "It's true, you know," she noted as she joined the princess in front of the mirror, offering the pair of yellow diamond earrings that Lydia had picked from the royal jewel vault for the day. She spoke softly, so the others wouldn't take notice. "You look so much like your Grandmother Helen."

The grandmother that Hazel referenced was actually Lydia's great-great-grandmother, a testament to just how long Hazel had been with the royal family. Queen Helen had been lauded for her beauty as well as her skill as a ruler, and even though Lydia didn't agree anytime she was compared, she'd often heard that she reminded people of the queen. For Hazel, it was a bit of a comfort, since she'd been particularly close with Helen.

"Thanks, Hazel," Lydia replied, feeling a little better. If Hazel could know her darkest secrets and still see the resemblance to someone as admirable as Queen Helen, things couldn't all be bad, Lydia reasoned.

Just as she'd finished securing her earrings, the door to her bedroom swung open. Bex strode in with her mother and Iris trailing behind her. Today, Bex had picked a figure-hugging dress with a pattern of fans on it. She towered over Lydia even more so than usual in a pair of red heels. "Oh my sweet and merciful _Lord_ , Lydia," Bex sighed as she dramatically threw herself onto Lydia's bed.

Lydia crossed her arms, her eyebrows raised in amusement. "Did you go spy on them even though I'm _positive_ I told you not to?"

"It was for your own good!" Bex declared, "We had to be prepared!"

"We _are_ prepared, Bex," Lydia pointed out as she picked one of the Seleced's files up from her desk.

"But now we're even more prepared, and it's a good thing to, because I've found your husband," Bex declared.

Lydia exchanged an exasperated look with Hazel. "Oh, yeah?"

"He's six feet, three inches of strong, muscled, Viking goodness!" Bex declared, flopping back onto the bed again and putting a hand to her heart. "He's hot, Lydia."

"You must be talking about Leif Wolff," Lydia laughed with a roll of her eyes. "And he's a Viking researcher, not an _actual_ Viking. And, for the record, you've already labeled many of them as 'hot'—"

Bex sat up, her face deadly serious. "No, I mean he's _hot_ ," she emphasized. "Like might as well send everyone else home, drop your panties right now kind of hot—"

"Rebecca!" Collette and Fiona Hannigan squawked in unison.

Bex rolled her eyes. "Mother, you called him a 'specimen', so chill," she ordered. She returned her attention to Lydia. "I'm just saying, Lyds, if your first date with this man doesn't include him taking his shirt off, you're doing the world a disservice."

"Leif Wolff is the one that's brought his daughter, isn't he?" Avery asked. She'd returned to the palace to serve as the Selection coordinator at Ezra's request, so she was the only other person who'd studied the files as much as Lydia. Lydia nodded in confirmation. "How do you feel about that?" Avery continued.

"It can be a difficult situation, from what I've heard," Collette added.

"I'm pretty sure the Selection is the definition of 'difficult situation'," Lydia chuckled. "We'll just see how it goes. He might not even like me, so I'm not going to discount him immediately for something like that."

"They're fools if they don't all love you," Tallulah declared as she appeared at Lydia's side. She held out a glass. "Here, for the nerves." As the water fairy, any kind of liquid magic usually fell within Tallulah's specialty. As Lydia swallowed the drink, she felt an instant sense of calm flood her, and she sent Tallulah an appreciative look.

One of Lydia's maids answered a knock at the door to reveal Ezra, who looked like he needed one of Tallulah's calming draughts himself. "It's just about time," he declared, "Are you _sure_ you don't want your mother and I to come with you?"

Lydia laughed. "Dad, I love you, but you and Mom are inherently intimidating," she pointed out, "I don't want to scare them too much until I know that they'll at least be making it past the first day."

"Fair," Ezra sighed, though he didn't seem pleased by it. "Can I at least walk you downstairs?"

"That I would love," Lydia beamed as she took her dad's arm. She glanced back at those who weren't joining them. "Wish me luck?"

"You don't need any," Hazel insisted, her confidence giving Lydia a small boost herself.

Avery and Bex, who would be helping Lydia with the afternoon, joined them as they started down the stairs towards the dining room that had been designated for the official commencement of the Selection. Lydia was grateful for Tallulah's drink, because she noticed that everyone around her seemed to be anxiously chattering on the small walk. She remained silent and calm herself.

"You sure you're ready for this?" Ezra asked when they stopped outside the wooden doors.

"I think so," Lydia nodded.

"If you want to call it off at any point, just let me know," Ezra insisted. "Just because the Selection is a tradition doesn't mean you _have_ to do it."

Lydia smiled up at her dad, studying his stoic face. Although he tended to let the public view him as more serious, it was rare that he wasn't laidback and easy-going with his family. When he was solemn at home, he meant business, as he did now. Lydia tried not to think of the last time she'd seen such a grave expression on his face, when she'd told him what had happened to Naomi…

She forced a smile. "Thanks, Dad. I love you."

"I love you, too, Lyds," Ezra sighed as he hugged her. "Always."

She chewed her lip as she considered how always didn't necessarily mean always. As she had for the last three years, she curtailed her hug with her father, letting him embrace her for only a few seconds before either of their powers could take over and cause Ezra to remember her deepest regret.

Before Ezra departed, Avery called him back. "You forgot to take your necklace off, Lydie." She pointed to the silver starfish. "Doesn't exactly go with rare diamonds."

"Oh, right," Lydia laughed as she unclasped the starfish necklace. She handed it to Avery, who started to hold it out to Ezra to return to Lydia's room.

As Lydia watched the dangling starfish lower towards Ezra's outstretched hand, it was like the world slowed down. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears, her breathing paused, and panic flooded every nerve in her body. If her psychometric father touched the necklace that had been gifted to her by Naomi and Ben, that held so many strong memories of her sister—

"No!"

Lydia snatched the necklace frantically, startling both her aunt and father. They turned confused faces towards her, and Lydia noticed that even Bex seemed caught off guard. "I'm sorry," she muttered as she re-fastened it around her neck. "It's just that Bex gave it to me, and it's sort of a lucky thing, and if I've ever needed luck, it's probably today, and I know it doesn't match, but—"

Avery put a hand on her shoulder. "Lyd, calm down," she laughed. "It's fine. It was just a suggestion."

"Right," Lydia muttered, her skin still feeling clammy from the near-miss.

As Avery instructed the butlers to announce Lydia, Bex sidled up to her friend. "Why did you lie to your Avery and your dad? I didn't give you that necklace."

In that moment, Lydia realized that Cohen was right, and she needed to work on her deception skills. "Tell you later?" she asked, hoping that the excitement of the day would cause Bex to forget. Her friended tended to have a one-track mind. Bex nodded.

The doors to the dining room swung open, and Lydia took in the scene before her with slightly shocked eyes. The preparation for the Selection had been more than Lydia had anticipated, and when she had complained about it to Hazel, Iris, and Tallulah, the three had offered to take care of the first day reception. Now, their marks were evident all over the room.

It looked more like they'd stepped into a forest than a dining room. Lush greenery decorated the archway of the door and hung from the ceiling. It was better than any florist could have provided—fluttering with life and a vibrant green that only an earth fairy like Hazel could achieve. Soft white lights had been hunt across the ceiling, and mason jars of candles floated in the air thanks to Iris. There were stacked fountains of champagne, water, and teas, all carefully contained with Tallulah's control so that they looked impressive but didn't slosh liquid anywhere.

But the most startling part was the thirty-five faces that tuned to meet her. Lydia swallowed deeply. "Uh, hello," she tried. "I just… wanted to thank you all for being here." She chewed her lip. _Not that they really had a choice,_ she reminded herself.

"I know that the Selection is kind of weird," she admitted with a small laugh, "but I really want this process to be enjoyable for you guys as well. I'm going to take some time to try to get to know each of you a little bit today, and I thought it would be fun if we did something instead of just a lot of small talk, so I organized a scavenger hunt. You each have three numbers in different colors. The yellow number is for me, the pink is for Bex, and the blue is for my brother Cohen, who is either using his aggravating power right now or will be here shortly. It's going to be a bit of a competition, but it's also just a good way for some of the people closest to me to get to know you." There was some nervous chatter at this.

"We have five minutes to complete our scavenger hunt tasks, so whenever the person who has the yellow number 1 is ready, just meet me outside." The room broke into a hum of conversation as she departed out the doors.

The scavenger hunt turned out to be a good plan. It gave Lydia something to discuss with the men, instead of the usual small talk and background info that she could easily read in their forms. It carried her through her first few interactions well.

She met Shivaay Armstrong, a barista with culinary dreams, who made her what he called a sweet Lassi when they realized—due to Lydia's vegetarianism and Queen Collette's dietary restrictions—they couldn't fulfill their task because they hadn't eaten the same thing in the last week aside from water. They didn't finish in their allotted five minutes, but Lydia figured the delicious drink was worth it, which Shiv agreed about.

There was also a fellow cat person, Charlie Donnell. Their task had been to photograph something fluffy, so the search for Vito had begun. She found out that Charlie was actually more of an all-animals person than strictly a cat person, but it was still close enough for her.

Some of their scavenger hunt endeavors also turned out remarkably well. She was pretty pleased when she met Rowan Dagwood, an herbalist, and he suggested that they use a poison berry to fulfill their 'a food neither of you have eaten' task. She figured it'd be more original than anything that Bex or Cohen could come up with and had enthusiastically agreed. Another amusing highlight was when Ozzie—Dijon Oswald, who staunchly introduced himself by his nickname—suggested they take a picture of Cohen, since they had been assigned with the job of finding a toy they both had as children, and Ozzie had a brother as well.

There were also a few disappointments. One of the men hugged Lydia instead of bowing—too tightly and for far too long—which resulted in her apologizing but requesting that he return to his room to pack his bags. Some she just instantly knew that she wouldn't be able to develop a connection with for one reason or another. She didn't ask many to leave immediately, but she did make mental notes of the men who wouldn't make it through their first night at the palace.

But before she could get too downcast, her savior arrived dressed in a black blazer with white feathers, a neat decorative bar stuck through the collar of his shirt. He was taller than she was—it wasn't difficult, given Lydia was only 5'3"—and had the brightest smile, the kind that made you want to partake just by looking at it. His skin was a warm brown, his bone structure unfairly sharp, and he had a curly black pompadour. One of the other things that caught Lydia's eye was a tattoo of a lily that took up the back of his left hand.

As if he didn't already stand out enough, he executed a bow that he punctuated with an unconventional flourish of his arm. "Pascal Somerset, at your service, Your Highness."

"Lydia, please," she countered. "Thank you for being here, Pascal."

"Man, thank _you_ ," he retorted. "This is nuts."

Lydia laughed at his casualness, but she appreciated it. She didn't like it when people treated her uniquely because of her family. "It is," she agreed, thinking back to how much her life had changed when she'd woken up the heir after Naomi's accident. She'd never realized what a monumental difference there was between being a princess and being the heir. Her parents could say they loved their children all equally, but there was some truth to the idea that the heir mattered more.

Pascal waved a hand in front of her face, making Lydia jump and realize that she'd gotten lost in her thoughts. "Earth to Lydia," he tried.

"Sorry," she sighed with a giggle, "I just… spaced I guess."

"Oh man," Pascal remarked, "Was my beauty that distracting?"

"That must've been it," she agreed. "We should probably do this scavenger thing before it distracts me again." She scanned the page. "So, we have to find something that you would take on a picnic."

Pascal's face lit up. "I got this." Without any further explanation, he shrugged his feather print jacket off and began to unbutton the cuff of his right sleeve.

Lydia's eyes widened in surprise. "Uh, or we could just go to the kitchen…"

"No, don't worry," Pascal assured her, "This is always a crowd pleaser."

Lydia chewed her lip nervously. "Pascal, please keep your clothes on," she requested. It was just her luck that one of the Selected would try to strip in their first meeting.

But then Pascal rolled his shirt up to reveal a tiny tattoo on his arm. "Ta-da!"

Lydia's brow furrowed as she examined it. "Is that a…"

"Pizza!" Pascal declared. "Perfect for picnics, parties, and pretty much anything else."

As her concern subsided, all Lydia could do was laugh, though she wasn't sure if it was at herself for being worried in the first place or Pascal for having a slice pizza inked on his skin. "I forgot you were the pizza delivery extraordinaire," she admitted.

"Oooh, I like that," Pascal remarked, "Usually I settle for 'pizza delivery man', but after today, never again."

She and Pascal took a selfie with the tattoo on his arm to fulfill their task and spent the rest of their time discussing his other tattoos. He had five—the lily that she'd noticed on his hand that connected to a larger forest scene on his arm, the names of his mother and aunt, and a quote from his favorite book. He didn't show them all to her, since it would've genuinely required taking his shirt off, and Lydia wasn't quite prepared for that, but he described them and gave explanations as to why he'd chosen such things.

Pascal was one of the group that she'd firmly decided would be staying after their first meetings, which Lydia was glad about. She'd been worried that there'd be no discernible connections the first day, and she'd wind up muddling through the decisions about who should stay and go. But Pascal was sassy and outgoing and fun, and Lydia liked that. The smile that he'd evoked was still lingering when she nodded to the guards to allow the next Selected forward.

Even if she hadn't seen his picture with his submission form, Lydia would have known that the man that walked out of the dining room was Leif Wolff instantly for a couple reasons. The first was that he had a tall and muscular build, curly blonde hair that was cropped close in the back but fell to his ears in the front, and a sharp, defined jawline. Clearly, this was the Viking Bex had been referring to.

But the other reason was that clasped in one of his enormous hands was a child's tiny, delicate one. She wore a beigey gold dress adorned with butterflies, and the resemblance between the little girl and the large man was evident from their curly blonde hair to their bright green eyes. The chubby, childish hand that wasn't wrapped in her father's clasped a bright bouquet of flowers, and while Leif stopped a safe distance from Lydia, Skadi shook herself free to present the flowers to the princess.

"Oh, my goodness," Lydia praised as she bent down—no easy feat in her skirt—to accept the flowers. "These are beautiful! Thank you so much."

Skadi stared at the princess unabashedly for a minute before she frowned. "Where's your crown?"

Leif's eyes bulged, while Lydia laughed. "I don't wear it all the time," the princess explained.

"Why?" Skadi continued.

"Well, they're not always very comfortable," Lydia admitted.

Skadi still wasn't satisfied. "Why?"

A slight furrow developed in Lydia's forehead. "Uh, some of them are very old," she tried, "so we can't really adjust them or change them too much to make them more comfortable."

Just when Lydia thought that her explanation was acceptable, Skadi's nose wrinkled. "Why?" she asked once more.

"Okay," laughed Leif as he took Skadi's hand. "What did I tell you about harassing people?"

"But, Pappa, I thought she was going to have a crown," Skadi whined. She sighed in disappointment as she returned to Leif's side but was soon distracted by the intricate, gold butterflies on her dress.

"Sorry," Leif chuckled. "She's in the inquisitive stage."

"It's fine," Lydia smiled, "Sorry I've been a disappointment."

"You'd be shocked how quickly kids bounce back," shrugged Leif, "By dinner, she'll remember we're in a palace and be over the moon again." His cheeks reddened. "Uh—if we're still here by dinner. I'm not implying—"

Lydia cut him off with a wave of her hand. "I know what you meant," she assured him. To avoid any other discomfort, she brandished the scavenger hunt. "So, we have to find something that you buy once a month."

Skadi gasped dramatically and jumped up and down. "I know!"

Amused, Lydia turned her attention to the little girl. "What are you thinking?"

"A crown!" Skadi exclaimed delightedly. When Leif gave her a "really?" expression, she argued seriously, "Princesses get new crowns _all the time_ , Pappa."

Although the Schreaves truthfully hadn't gotten a new tiara since the British royal family had gifted them one for Naomi's christening, Lydia didn't want to let Skadi down further, so she reasoned, "What a creative idea, Skadi. There's one in my room that we can use for our picture, but we have to hurry since we only have five minutes." She paused before she directed her attention to Leif. "And we have to be quiet, because technically, you guys aren't allowed on the royal family's floor."

Leif scooped Skadi into his muscular arms and put a finger to his mouth to encourage her to comply with Lydia's instruction. Lydia led them to the third floor through a servant's entrance, and after a quick glance to make sure none of the guards were paying too much attention, she grabbed Leif's free hand and rushed the pair towards her room.

After Lydia slammed the door securely behind them, she headed to her closet to collect the tiara in question from atop her bureau. When she returned to her bedroom, Leif stood awkwardly near the drawer while Skadi marveled at her surroundings. "Here it is," Lydia offered.

Skadi looked like she was about to cry from happiness as she stared at the all-diamond tiara with its large, rectangular stones and foliage motifs. "Put it on, put it on!" she cheered.

She bent so that she was eyelevel with Skadi again. "Why don't you put it on?" she suggested. "Then we can use a picture of you with it for the scavenger hunt."

Skadi's eye and mouth were all round with shock as she glanced at Leif for approval. "Please, Pappa?"

Leif hesitated and cast a look at Lydia. "Uh, are you sure…?"

"Of course," Lydia insisted, settling the tiara on Skadi's soft blonde curls herself. It was too big for Skadi's child sized head, but this didn't bother the little girl at all, even as she had to reach up to steady it. "Beautiful!" Lydia championed, "You look just like a princess."

Skadi excitedly bounced up and down on the balls of her feet. "Pappa, take a picture of me and Princess Lydia!" she pleaded, one of her hands still circled around the diamond ornament she wore.

"What do you say?" Leif cautioned his daughter as he reached for the camera that Lydia held out to her.

"Please, please, _please_ ," Skadi amended. The happiness shone right out of the child's face, like there was nothing on the planet that could have possibly made her happier. When Lydia kneeled beside her, Skadi wasted no time in putting a small arm around the princess's shoulders.

After Lydia had returned the tiara to her closet, the trio made their way back downstairs. Skadi clutched the photo like it was her most prized possession, and Lydia had a feeling that she wasn't going to be able to bring herself to collect it from the child as part of their scavenger hunt. When Skadi scurried back into the dining room, Leif hung back for a moment.

"Thank you," he said.

"For?" Lydia replied, perplexed.

"I entered because Skadi wanted me to," he confessed, and Lydia's heart sank a little to discover that beautiful Leif Wolff wasn't there for her. "But I think you just made today the best day of her life, so even if you send me home—"

Lydia's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Who said anything about sending you home?"

Leif nervously raked a hand through his hair. "I'm a single dad. I know it's not… ideal."

"And I'm a princess," shrugged Lydia, "Also not exactly ideal." Leif's face was contemplative, like he hadn't considered her obligations as much as his own. "Let's just see how this goes," suggested Lydia, "Skadi is so sweet, and you seem like a really great dad, so I think I'd be pretty lucky to get to know the both of you better, if you're interested in staying."

There was a moment of consideration in which Lydia thought he might ask to leave, but finally, Leif gave a slow nod. "Thanks. For being… you know, understanding."

Lydia gave a tight smile as she briefly wondered if the men would be equally as understanding if they knew what she'd done to Naomi and how hard she'd worked to conceal it since. But Leif disappeared into the dining room, and she tried to shake the feeling off as the next man emerged.

Luckily, the new arrival definitely provided a distraction. It was an interaction that Lydia had been both nervous and excited about all morning, but now, she only smiled as he shuffled forward, clearly uncomfortable in his navy slacks and cream jacket. He still had the limp that she'd noticed a week ago, which made Lydia wonder if it was a more permanent injury. "How's it going, Suits?" she asked with a teasing grin.

He stopped before her, his jaw tensed like he was trying to repress either a grin or a grimace at the nickname she'd employed. "Your Highness." He bowed shortly at the waist, not entirely proper but a good attempt, in Lydia's opinion.

"No 'Moneybags' or 'Dollar Signs' today?" she teased.

Joey Price's face flushed. "Look, I'm sorry about the thing at the barn," he began.

Lydia crossed her arms. "Because you were rude or because I ended up being the princess?" she pressed. She really wasn't as mad as she pretended to be, but she figured he deserved a bit of harrying after the way he'd treated her and Bex.

"Uh… sort of both?" Joey tried. Lydia had a strong suspicion that it was mostly the latter, but she decided to wave it off.

"It's alright," she relented kindly. "Though I have to admit—I am a little curious as to why you decided to enter something like the Selection if you hate people like me and Bex so much?"

"Not hate," Joey countered, "Just…"

She had a feeling that there was something deeper there that he wasn't ready to discuss, so she gave a facetiously dramatic sigh. "I'll give you a pass today since we only have five minutes, and we still have to find something…" She consulted her list. "Ah—an item used in battle."

"Can't be hard in a museum like this," Joey remarked as he glanced around. He paused when he realized that he maybe shouldn't be insulting Lydia's home. "Uh—sorry." Lydia waved him off and suggested that there was a sword hung above the fireplace in a nearby library.

They set off in silence, and Lydia noticed Joey wince a few times as he kept up with her pace so they could complete their task in under five minutes. When they reached the library, Lydia had a maid take a photo of her pretending to chase Joey with the sword. While it wasn't the warmest interaction she'd had, they didn't snark at each other much more for the rest of their five minutes, which she decided to mark down as a win. She wished him good luck with Bex, who she had a feeling would be a lot more unforgiving, as he shuffled back into the dining room. The grimace that he gave her in return made her wonder if he was wishing she'd send him home instead of subjecting him to her best friend again.

Lydia supposed she should have stopped being surprised by how attractive the men were in person, but that didn't mean the next guy's appearance failed to make her smile. He had curly dark brown hair, tan skin, a muscular build, and was dressed in gray slacks and a coordinating vest sans the jacket. His sleeves were rolled up, as though he'd gotten bored or uncomfortable or something similar during his wait.

But the thing about him that made Lydia's stomach flutter instantly was the way he was looking at _her_. As soon as the doors opened and he saw her, his warm brown eyes had lit up, and his white teeth shone at her. He looked genuinely happy to see her—Lydia, not the princess—like they were reuniting rather than meeting for the first time.

He stopped at a respectful distance, his face still a little star-struck. Instead of introducing himself or bowing, he began, "Wow. You look…" His chest heaved with a big exhale as he struggled for a way to end his sentence.

"Think carefully," Lydia suggested with a playful smile, "I've heard twenty-some variations so far."

He laughed and seemed to relax. "Of course you have," he said, a little like he was scolding himself for almost being so cliché. "Well, since I don't want to repeat anyone else's well-thought out adjectives, let me say that I could not be happier to be meeting you right now."

He appeared so genuine that Lydia couldn't help but smile too. "I'm glad to hear that," she admitted, "It's nice to meet you, Gabriel."

An eyebrow quirked at her use of his name, since he hadn't provided it yet. "Oh, sorry," laughed Lydia, "haven't you heard that I'm psychic?"

The surprise was evident on his face. "Uh, no," he confessed, "I'd just heard about the healing thing, but that's actually really awesome."

"It would be awesome," nodded Lydia, "if it wasn't a joke."

Gabriel's shoulders sagged. "Well, this introduction is just getting more impressive by the minute, isn't it?" he laughed at himself. "It's fitting, though. Abuela always says that 'crédulo' should be my middle name."

"Gabriel Gullible Alba," Lydia tried. "It has potential."

"Thanks," he chuckled. "I'll take it under consideration if I ever feel like a name change. You can call me Gabe, by the way."

"And you may call me Lydia," she offered. "Glad we got that out of the way before we started sounding ridiculous with things like 'Sir Gabriel' or 'Princess Lydia.'"

"You don't like being called princess?" he asked.

Lydia paused. After a moment of consideration, she shrugged. "It's okay," she admitted, "but I like being Lydia more."

He didn't make a big deal of the admission, which Lydia appreciated. He simply nodded and declared, "Lydia it is then."

When she realized she'd been smiling perhaps too long in response to his statement, Lydia unfolded the battle-worn scavenger hunt list. "So, our scavenger hunt task is to find something with wheels," she informed him. "I know Bex will use the Rolls Royce, because she's obsessed with it, and Cohen will probably use something dorky like one of his model cars. Got any ideas?"

Gabe considered it for a few seconds before he suggested, "What about a bike?"

Lydia's face lit up. "Luckily for you, I happen to _love_ bike rides and have the perfect, most photogenic bicycle ever." She grabbed his hand and caught him off guard as she started to jog towards the palace doors. They only had around four minutes left, after all.

Her bike was kept in a shed near the gardens, built specifically because Collette had grown weary of the tendency that Lydia had possessed since childhood to just dump the bicycle in the palace driveway. It was a little difficult to climb over the random things shoved into the shed in her skirt and heels, but Lydia managed it. When she wheeled the bike onto the gravel, Gabe gave it an appreciative nod. "This works."

"You're going to have to ride it while I take the picture," Lydia explained as she handed it off to him. Gabe accepted it, and Lydia held up her yellow camera. "Smile!" She snapped the photo as Gabe rode her too-small-for-him, turquoise and white bicycle a few feet down the long driveway.

When they'd both approved the picture, Lydia handed it to Gabe to put in his pocket since her skirt lacked any. Gabe didn't move to abandon the bicycle. "You said you liked bike rides," he recalled. "Wanna go for a spin?"

She wanted to say yes immediately, but her excitement was dashed when she thought of their time limit. "We won't get back in time to get the scavenger hunt item."

Gabe gave a relaxed shrug of his shoulders. "I think this would be a worthy forfeiture," he admitted, "but it's up to you."

There was a small pause before Lydia hooked her camera onto her wrist and hopped onto the handlebars, almost tumbling backwards due to the restriction of her legs by her skirt. After making sure that she was steady, Gabe started to pedal forward.

There was something about bike rides that had always felt freeing and exciting to Lydia. Even if she knew she wasn't leaving the palace grounds, it felt like she _could_ , and sometimes, that was enough. Being delicately perched on the handlebars only added to the excitement. She could tumble into the gravel at any second, as the tilt of the bicycle against Gabe's efforts reminded her. But it didn't matter. She could scrape the entire length of her body in against the stones of the driveway, and it wouldn't matter, because she'd be healed in minutes.

She released the handlebars, holding her arms out like she was about to take flight. "Careful," Gabe cautioned with a chuckle.

"This is great," she sighed into the wind. For a moment, she felt like the Lydia of three years ago, who didn't have the weight of her sister's life and a job she'd never wanted stacked on her shoulders.

But then they'd lapped the palace all too quickly, and the bike slowed to a standstill. Lydia sighed as she returned to the ground. "Thank you," she smiled as she turned to face Gabe. "That was really fun."

He gave her an easy smile. "I had a good time too."

They returned to the castle, and soon, Gabe was replaced by a charming guy named Alistair Lockwood. Lydia had heard of his family—who hadn't, really—the owners of popular wine company, Wine O'Clock. Alistair didn't seem too interested in discussing the family business and even seemed a little cold when Lydia brought it up, but he redeemed himself when he suggested they just use her to fulfill their 'something that smells good' mission for the scavenger hunt.

Alistair was succeeded by Creed Rosario, an assistant cruise director. He seemed so young to have worked his way up to a management position, but when Lydia realized how charismatic he was, it made sense. He also seemed ready for any kind of adventure, being the one to lead Lydia off on their search for 'something you wear in the water' even though he didn't know his way around the palace at all and took wrong turns galore that made Lydia laugh.

After Creed came Nathaniel Hendricks, who was a little quieter than the other men but impossibly polite. He was a butler, so his extreme manner and sense of decorum made sense once Lydia discussed his job with him. He called her 'Your Highness' the whole time, even though she offered her first name many times.

Nathaniel was replaced by a tall and lanky figure, but the thing that stood out most to Lydia were the dimples that complimented the slightly nervous smile he gave her. After he bowed, he introduced himself, "Logan Wyatt, Your Highness."

"Lydia, please," she countered, a little wearied by having to make the constant amendment. Naomi had always been more gracious at taking her title in stride than Lydia was. "It's nice to meet you, Logan."

"You too," he smiled sincerely, "I've already met your brother and Bex, but I've been excited to get to meet you."

Lydia laughed. "Well, I'm glad that they didn't scare you away," she noted, "It's an unfortunate talent that Cohen and Bex both happen to share."

"They are a handful," Logan agreed with a chuckle. "So, what's our scavenger hunt thing?"

"'A movie neither of you have seen,'" Lydia read. "Which should be easy, because honestly, I'm terrible about watching movies. Come on, there's tons in the theater."

"What do you mean?" Logan asked.

Lydia shrugged. "I just never find time for them or I fall asleep or something like that," she admitted, "Aunt Avery took me to a premiere last year, and I was sitting right next to the star, and I fell asleep—it was mortifying."

To his credit, he tried to swallow his laughter. "So, Hollywood events aren't really your thing?"

"No," Lydia snorted instantly, "They were always Nao—" She froze when she realized what she was about to say. Logan didn't notice and walked a few steps until he realized she wasn't at his side. When he looked back at her, Lydia forced a smile. "Sorry, tripped. Anyway, I was just saying they never appealed to me. Come on, theater's this way!" She hurried ahead, unsettled by the way she'd almost slipped and said Naomi's name. Logan seemed like the type she could talk to about anything—except Naomi, of course, so she mentally berated herself the rest of the way to the theater to be more careful.

When they reached the room, Lydia stepped into the darkness, her hand feeling over the wall for the light switch. When she finally found it, she turned around to find Logan hadn't followed her in. He was firmly rooted in the hallway, his face ashen. "You can come in," Lydia assured him.

Only once the lights had all come to life did he step in, which Lydia took little notice of. She'd already bent in front of the cabinet where all of their movies were kept. "Okay, let's see… _Star Wars_?"

"Don't let Fallon catch you saying you haven't seen that one," snorted Logan, in reference to one of the Selected that Lydia hadn't met yet. She stored the information away for future use.

"Hm… _Titanic_?"

"You really don't watch movies, do you?" Logan chortled. He joined her in front of the cabinet. "Man, this one is my favorite," he noted as he tapped a movie called _She's the Man_. "I love any cheesy rom com," he added a little sheepishly.

"Never seen it, unsurprisingly," Lydia remarked. "Maybe we could watch it sometime?"

Logan's face lit up. "Definitely."

They finally decided on one of the X-Men movies, as neither had seen any of them. After their photo was procured, they returned to the dining room and said their goodbyes before the next Selected took Logan's place.

Finally, after over three hours, Lydia realized that they'd reached the final Selected. But any exhaustion instantly disappeared when the man emerged. Unlike the others, who'd been in various styles of suits, he wore the formal dress blues of a member of the Illéan army. He had impeccable posture and a serious face, though he didn't seem as nervous as some of the others. But he'd also brought a spotlight stealer: clasped in his left hand the leather leash of a beautiful, sedate German Shepherd.

Before any introductions could be made, Lydia bent to greet the dog. She paused before she reached her hand out though, as she recalled Fallon Tybee's file. "Is he working?" she frowned up at the soldier.

Fallon hesitated for a moment before he offered, "Go ahead. It's fine."

Lydia beamed as she held her hand out for the dog to sniff. When he tentatively licked her fingers, she gave him a scratch behind his large ears. "Hi, Baloo!" she beamed. "It's so good to meet you." The dog seemed to like her, which made Lydia happy.

She stood and held a hand out to Fallon. "It's also very nice to meet you, Fallon," she continued, "and on behalf of the royal family, I wanted to thank you for your service to Illéa."

Something unreadable flashed across Fallon's face, but Lydia could tell how proud he was of his military background. Lydia had read in his file that he'd been honorably discharged due to an injury, and Ezra had encouraged her to be careful about discussing his military service, as forced dismissal was often difficult for soldiers to accept. "Thank you, Your Highness," Fallon replied as he shook her hand. His was much larger, his grip firm.

"Sorry this day has been so long," Lydia remarked when she stepped away. "I guess even five minutes with thirty-five people adds up."

"It's fine," Fallon assured her calmly. "There have been a lot of people to meet between all of the different Selected and your family."

"Watch out," Lydia warned him, "Aunt Avery loves a man in uniform."

For the first time since he'd stepped into the hall, Fallon's face twitched into a genuine smile. "She mentioned something like that."

Lydia gave an overly dramatic, exasperated roll of her eyes. "Poaching my Selected already. I knew she was going to be trouble." She remembered the list in her hand and added, "I think our task is to find something with a sports team logo."

Fallon nodded but didn't offer any suggestions. A thought popped into Lydia's mind, and she asked, "Can I show you something kind of top secret?"

The soldier before her hesitated. "Uh… I don't want to break any rules."

"It's fine," she assured him, "Come on."

She led him on a windy path through the palace before they stopped outside of a room that Collette hated. "You can't tell anyone about this though, or my Dad might kill me, and then you'll all be here for Cohen's Selection, which would probably be awkward."

"Scout's honor," Fallon promised.

She opened the door to reveal a small den. It was pretty standard with some couches and a television mounted over the fireplace, but it was the decoration that made the room unique: everything, from the throw pillows on the couch to the lamps to the end tables was a vibrant blue and yellow, all stamped with the lightning bolt logo of the Angeles Chargers football team.

"Wow," Fallon commented as he took in the room. "The King has a mancave?"

Lydia nodded. "Isn't it ugly?"

"I mean, it'd be better if it were the Baffin Bengals, but what are you gonna do, I guess?" he shrugged.

Lydia snapped a candid picture of him and Baloo surrounded by all the Chargers stuff. "Do you like sports?" she asked.

Fallon hesitated before he shrugged. "I used to like them a lot more," he admitted.

"Well, maybe my Dad will reconvert you by the time football season rolls around," she commented. "He really makes it clear why the term 'fan' is a shortened form of 'fanatic.'"

Armed with the final task of the scavenger hunt, the trio returned, and Lydia walked into the dining room with them to thank the Selected for a great afternoon. She asked the men she planned on sending home to stay behind and forced Bex and Aunt Avery to wait outside the door in case anything got dicey. For the most part, the men went graciously, although there was one who decided to remark that Lydia wasn't that pretty anyway, which she declared was the most interesting thing he'd said that day.

When it was all finished, she was down to twenty-nine Selected remaining. She also found out that she lost the scavenger hunt to Bex, since many of her tasks hadn't been completed in the time limit. But all in all, the day felt like a success, which she relayed to Naomi as she sat by her sister's bed later that night.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:** Hello! I am so sorry that it has been absolutely forever. School has been absolutely insane this semester, as I've actually begun appearing in court. Luckily, we've reached finals, so I should have much more time after the end of the semester. I fully intend to finish this story, as well as IWESTS, so please be assured that I have not given up on them.

This chapter was a bit of a struggle, and I don't think it's my best, but let me know what you thought/if you're even still interested in this story haha. If anyone read _Holding_ last year, you'll remember at Christmas I did a "7 Days of Christmas" and updated every day. I'm going to do that again this year, but reviews and feedback are really important since I don't have any of those chapters prewritten and it's hard to write every day if it feels like no one is really into it anymore.

If anyone has any standout favorites, I'm always up to hear who they are :D

* * *

As Lydia quickly found out, there were pros and cons to hosting a Selection.

One of the pros was that she discovered the workload sent her way by her father had greatly diminished, as she had suspected it would. For the time being, her breakfast tray wasn't accompanied by stacks of tax documents or legislature in need of review, which she was immensely thankful for. It was much easier for her to justify dashing off to Naomi's tower after she'd grabbed her orange juice and a piece of toast without work hanging over her head.

Unfortunately, there were cons that she hadn't anticipated. While the country no longer demanded her attention, she found that in its place were a million trivial, seemingly unimportant inquiries that Bex and Aunt Avery constantly supplied to her. Her aunt had begun to go as far as bringing Lydia's breakfast to her room herself so that she could catch her niece before she disappeared into thin air. The first few days after the Selection's commencement, Lydia tried to combat it by waking earlier, but Avery rose to the occasion and always managed to arrive before Lydia could slip away.

The third morning after the Selected had arrived, Lydia was in her bathroom before the sun rose, slipping into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt when her aunt and friend arrived together. They walked in without knocking, causing Lydia to almost fall over in shock given that her legs were still tangled in the pants. She glared at the pair.

"This is getting ridiculous," she declared.

"What's ridiculous is the fact that you haven't taken that Viking on a date yet," retorted Bex.

"Or anyone," added Aunt Avery. "Here, have a muffin."

Lydia resentfully accepted the oatmeal and cranberry muffin. "What?" she asked through a full mouth when she noticed Bex's eyes inspecting her.

"What are you wearing?" Bex asked, her nose wrinkled.

"I was going to take Bex the dog for a walk," Lydia lied, partially only to irritate her friend. Bex could be a little testy over the fact that she had served as Cohen's labradoodle's namesake.

Aunt Avery ignored the quip. "What do you think about going on a date today?" she suggested. She used an upbeat tone, the one that Lydia noticed she usually reserved for children.

She wanted to groan, "Do I have to?" but instead, she settled for a grimace. "I mean, I'm going to see them all at dinner tonight anyway," she pointed out.

"What an effective dating method," snorted Bex.

"Don't normal people go to dinner for dates all the time?" countered Lydia. "Why can't I do it too?"

"Yeah, not with twenty-something different guys at once though," Bex pointed out, "and their parents, siblings, closest friends, family fairies, and whatever noble is floating around their enormous castle that day aren't usually invited either."

"Ah, so the Duchess of Sonage last night was too much?" quipped Lydia.

Bex and Avery both ignored her. Instead, her aunt gave her a wide smile, and Lydia could feel her irritation with both fade cleanly away, leaving in its place an odd desire: it felt like she wanted to spend time with the Selected, like there was nothing that sounded better than the date that Bex and Avery had suggested…

She pushed the feelings away and glared at her aunt. "Not fair."

Avery smirked. "I don't know what you're talking about."

They both knew it was a lie. Like all members of the royal family, Avery had been given a gift by the fairies when she was a child. Iris had once explained to Lydia that powers often enhanced or drew upon on an inherent tendency or skill that a person already possessed, and often, Lydia wondered whether her aunt's natural charisma affected people or if she used her empathic manipulation more regularly than she let on.

Currently, she knew it was the power, and if it weren't for her own healing abilities, she'd be completely helpless to the desire to spend time with the Selected that her aunt had inspired. "I promise I'll go see them later," she insisted, "There's just some things that I have to take care of first."

It seemed to be enough for Avery and Bex, and Lydia managed to shake them off a half hour later. She was later than she liked when she slipped off the fairies' wing and was unsurprised to find them all crowded around Naomi's bed when she arrived.

"How is she?" Lydia asked, her stomach a tight knot of fear.

"Stable," Hazel announced before Iris or Tallulah could try to embellish Naomi's condition so Lydia didn't worry.

The tower was steadily beginning to look more like a hospital room. Tubes and needles now led from the battered princess's arms to beeping machines. A plethora of vitamins, antibiotics, and supplements were laid out on Naomi's nightstand. But there was only so much medicine could do. The bruises had continued to grow, now working their way from Naomi's fingertips to her knuckles. A hollowness had carved out the once beautiful princess's face. It was hard for Lydia to touch Naomi anymore, because all she felt was a constantly increasing iciness.

If it wasn't for Hazel's heavy gaze, Lydia would have grabbed Naomi's arm and healed her until she physically couldn't any longer. But Hazel seemed to be aware of this and watched Lydia until she sunk into a chair in the corner of the room. "What are we going to do?" she sighed, her face buried in her hands.

"Did you read the Selected's files?" she added when none of the fairies responded. "Does it seem like anyone could help?"

"Well, Rowan Dagwood is, of course, interesting," Tallulah confessed, "given his profession and power." Lydia recalled that Rowan possessed toxikinesis.

"But Naomi hasn't been poisoned, she's been cursed," countered Hazel, "so you'd have to trust him with the truth of Naomi's condition on the off chance that he might be able to help."

Just the thought of telling any of the Selected about Naomi and the lengths that they had gone to in order to conceal her situation made Lydia nauseous. "What about any of the fire powers?" she asked. "Agnimitra is a fire fairy. Maybe…"

"We considered that as well," nodded Hazel grimly. "Leif Wolff is the most obvious, of course, being that he is pyrokinetic. But there's also Alistair Lockwood, and I suspect Shivaay Blake."

"Nightmare inducement and heat manipulation," Lydia recited, recalling what she'd read of the boys' respective files.

"All gifted from a fire fairy, most likely," continued Hazel, "but none directly helpful, since they aren't casting powers that could formulate a counter-curse."

Lydia growled in frustration. "But no one has casting powers except for fairies," she pointed out, "so why aren't we talking to them?"

"We're trying," Iris interjected. "Curses are the most difficult magical projections, and Agnimitra was remarkably powerful."

Hazel cut her off with a glare, and Iris fell silent in a way that made Lydia's brow furrow. The earth fairy seemed to notice her interest and dismissively noted, "We're still looking in to a few things. Don't worry too much yet."

A tense silence settled upon the four, only broken when Tallulah offered a small, pink vial to Lydia. The princess hesitantly took it. "What is it?"

"Hope," Tallulah answered simply. Similar to Aunt Avery, who Tallulah had imbued with her power decades ago, emotional manipulation was the water fairy's specialty. Lydia didn't hesitate to drink the potion, realizing that if she'd ever needed a dose of hope, it was probably now.

She felt the effects immediately. "Maybe there's something in the library," she mused, "I've been researching counter-curses, but if we need a different spell altogether—"

"The library will be there later," Iris interjected, her smile wide beneath her hooked nose. "You should take some time to spend with the boys!"

Not even the Tallulah's liquid hope could make Lydia think about the remaining Selected without a small bit of reluctance though. "Uh…"

"She's right," Hazel agreed, a rarity it seemed lately, since Naomi's condition had caused a decent amount of friction amongst the fairies. "You wanted this Selection to buy us time to help Naomi, didn't you?"

"Well, yeah," began Lydia.

"We're not going to have that if there's just two dozen more people wondering where you're sneaking off to at all hours of the day," reasoned Tallulah. "So, go! Try to have a little fun."

She might've fought a little more if it weren't for the optimism that she couldn't shake and the ideas that were already swirling in her mind. So, she made them promise they'd send for her if there were any break throughs—as always—and with a general plan developing in her brain, she headed towards the second floor of the palace where the Selected's rooms were located.

The guard that was posted outside the door bowed to her, and Lydia smiled in return. She'd grown so used to being shadowed by guards almost her entire life that she felt that sometimes she forgot they were there and overlooked them, so she felt bad that she didn't know this particular officer's name. He seemed to notice her hesitation and offered, "Officer Dombkowski, Your Highness."

"Nice to formally meet you," Lydia smiled, "Do you know if Ozzie—uh, Sir Ozzie?—is up yet?"

"Should be," nodded the guard. "He just got back from his run." Lydia was impressed, given how early it was. She was certainly never the type to pull herself out of bed early for exercise, even before Naomi's accident. Officer Dombkowski knocked on the door, and a butler that Lydia recognized well appeared at the door.

"Hello, Gregorio!" she smiled brightly.

"Your Highness." Gregorio's bow was much more formal and reserved than Officer Dombkowski's, but it was evident that he was proud she'd recognized him.

"How'd you get stuck down here?" chuckled Lydia. A butler of Gregorio's experience was usually reserved for royal or political visitors.

Gregorio tried not to grimace, but Lydia wasn't fooled. "I'm happy for any assignment," Gregorio offered.

Lydia almost laughed, as she could tell that Gregorio was trying to convince himself as well as her, but instead she just asked, "Is Ozzie up?"

"Of course, Your Highness." He beckoned Lydia into the room and then called, "Sir Dijon?"

"How many times do I gotta tell ya, Greg the Second, Ozzie is—Oh." Ozzie paused before his hand jumped into his long, dark hair, and an easy smile tugged at his face. "Princess Lydia." He bowed with good form, though he added an exaggerated flourish that made her chuckle.

"Just Lydia," she corrected, as she had for days. She knew there was no way the Selected could be aware, but every time someone used her title, it reminded her of Naomi. Her older sister had always managed to graciously embrace her role as princess without making people feel uncomfortable. Lydia had never been quite sure how to reconcile being a princess among regular people.

"This is a pleasant surprise, Just Lydia," Ozzie noted. His statement reminded Lydia that she hadn't yet visited any of the Selected individually. The Lydia of a few years earlier might've felt awkward because of it, but present Lydia was rarely troubled by situations that discomforted the average person. Regardless of the circumstances, she always had Naomi to remind her that she had much bigger problems.

With a smile, she explained, "I was hoping you could help me."

Ozzie's eyebrows arched, conveying a mixture of surprise and interest. "Oh?"

"I wanted to welcome everyone to Angeles," she explained, "Show them around a little. I thought, since you're from Angeles too, you might be able to help me come up with some popular spots for a tour."

An easy grin tugged at the corners of Ozzie's mouth. "I'm definitely your man," he agreed. "But clearly, we should hit up an Angeles highlight to get some inspiration flowing."

It turned out that Ozzie's "Angeles highlight" was a small little shop called "The Juice Boost." Lydia had never been one to keep herself holed up in the palace—and hadn't needed to, since she'd had a fair amount of free time when she was the spare—but in the last few years, her visits around Angeles had greatly diminished. She suspected "The Juice Boost" had been built sometime recently, since she'd never heard of it before.

"This is going to be the best coffee you've ever had," Ozzie promised her as he led the way into the shop.

Lydia guessed that Ozzie had spent a lot of time in the juice store before the Selection, because when the man behind the counter saw him, he declared, "Holy shit, aren't you a sight for sore eyes?"

"Hey, language, Joseph," Ozzie grinned, "You're in the presence of a lady."

Lydia cringed. "Oh, no, it's really fine—"

But the damage was done, and Joseph's eyes grew to the size of saucers before he fell to a knee. "I'm so sorry, Your Highness. Can I get you anything at all? On the house, of course, and once again, my apologies—"

"It's really fine," Lydia assured him, trying not to glance around. She could feel the eyes on her though and heard the whispers of " _the princess_."

This was what she'd never been any good at. People had never been interested in her until Naomi was gone. And while Naomi had experienced a life time of politely shrugging off attention and graciously indulging when she had the time, Lydia had just been expected to figure it out over night and on her own. Resultingly, she didn't exactly excel, especially when she was on the spot.

Luckily, it usually started with the children first. They would cautiously approach, eyeing Lydia's guard and with their parents at their backs for confidence. Lydia could talk to children. They didn't scare her.

And she did when she felt the first little hand brush at her sweater. Her guard looked uncomfortable by the little girl's close proximity to Lydia, but the juice shop wasn't exactly enormous, so Lydia gave him a reassuring smile before she turned to the girl.

Usually, they wanted pictures, sometimes hugs, all of which Lydia was more than happy to comply with. She truly liked kids. But it inevitably started a trend. When the families left with their trophies, they would let the random passerby know in their excitement, and before she knew what had happened, the juice shop was crowded with people who weren't even remotely interested in juice. She apologized to Ozzie a few times in the beginning, but before she knew what had happened, she'd spent forty-five minutes talking to people and wasn't even sure where Ozzie was anymore.

She usually drew the line when people started telling her about some ailment that they would inevitably ask her to heal for them. It created an uncomfortable situation for Lydia, though she knew why they did it. It was a natural question. If she had an injury or sickness and met someone with the power to heal it, she might have asked to. And she did try to use her power to help people as often as she could, visiting hospitals whenever her parents agreed. But it made her uncomfortable when she was accosted by a request, or when it was something she knew she couldn't heal anyway.

Her guard, a burly man named Phil, knew this was the sign as well, and he ushered her out of the shop just after a soccer player was telling her about his particularly troublesome case of plantar fasciitis. She let out an enormous breath when she discovered Ozzie and Officer Dombkowski waiting outside for them. "I'm sorry," she sighed, "Hazard of the job."

Ozzie didn't look surprised or thrown off though. "No problem," he shrugged. He held out a cardboard cup to her. "Here. I grabbed some to go."

Lydia beamed as she accepted the drink from him. She took a tentative sip, and her smile quickly faded. "Mmm." She tried not to grimace, but the drink was probably the most bitter, disgusting liquid she'd ever encountered.

To her surprise, Ozzie laughed. "Wow, so you don't like coffee?"

"I'd never had it before," she admitted, trying to swallow away the disgusting aftertaste, "but I guess not."

"Never had it?" This time, he did seem shocked. "Where have you been living all these years? Under a rock?"

Lydia laughed and held the drink back out to him. He took it and wasted no time in taking a big gulp. Clearly, he did not share her opinion on coffee. "My mom is kind of a health nut," she explained with a shrug. "Caffeine, sugar, dairy, red meat, processed foods, the whole nine yards."

His forehead wrinkled in concern. "Holy crap. Are you okay? Do you need junk food, like, immediately since we've already broken out of jail?"

"That's a kind offer, but I think I'm okay," she giggled. "You kind of get used to it. Although Cohen and I do try to sneak cake on occasion. It's kind of my weakness."

"Any kind in particular?" Ozzie asked.

"Any," admitted Lydia. "You don't get picky when you only get it every blue moon."

"And here we all think you're just living in luxury up at the palace," snorted Ozzie.

"Upside to the Selection is it's definitely loosened up the diet restrictions," she confided. "Although I promise you there is no way in heck the pancakes are made with real sugar."

Ozzie gave a dramatic gasp. "What a scandal."

She glanced around. "So, this tour," she reminded him, "Got any ideas?"

Ozzie winked and dragged a hand through his wavy hair. "Do I ever." Without an ounce of hesitation, he took Lydia's hand and started to lead her down the sidewalk, already talking a mile a minute.

They made it back in time for lunch, and Lydia decided to have it served in the Men's Parlor so she could invite them on that afternoon's tour.

Guards were posted outside the Men's Parlor, more for effect than because they were necessary, and one of them requested entrance for Lydia. Because it was supposed to be the reciprocal version of the Women's Room, she had to wait outside before someone said it was okay for her to come in, which she found an interesting situation. She couldn't remember a single instance in her childhood where something had been off limits to her. She'd enjoyed taunting Cohen about the fact that he couldn't go into the Women's Room far too often when they were younger and figured this was probably what she deserved.

The Selected looked pleasantly surprised when she (or their lunch) entered. "Hi, everyone," she smiled, a little uncomfortable with all the attention turned towards her. "Uh, I brought lunch." She pointed towards the carts of food in hopes that it would take some of the eyes off her.

Pascal made the first move, gasping loudly. "Is that pizza?!"

Lydia grimaced. "Uh… yes, but if I know my mom, it probably has a cauliflower base instead of dough, so proceed with caution."

Pascal put a hand on his chest as he examined the now offensive item. "The audacity."

The cauliflower pizza wasn't as problematic as she expected though, and soon, she found herself wedged between Charlie and Leif on a couch as Skadi brought her things to try from the lunch cart. She dutifully ate whatever Skadi served, though she did feel a little bad for Baloo, whose eyes followed the little girl as she dashed back and forth. The dog was ever the professional though and remained at Fallon's side without the slightest twitch.

When she finally managed to convince Skadi that she couldn't possibly eat anymore—with a little help from Leif—she turned the attention towards their plan for the afternoon. "So, are you guys busy today?"

There was a snort from the corner of the room where Alistair Lockwood sat with his long legs crossed and a sketchbook in his lap. He hadn't partaken much in lunch, aside from a small plate of cheese and fruit that he paired with a glass of red wine. Lydia remembered that his family was prolific in the wine industry and hoped that the palace's stores were up to his standards. "Well, we don't really do much when you're not around," he pointed out. He wrinkled his nose at the large television that hung above the fireplace. "Aside from the _truly_ _riveting_ video game marathons."

Lydia giggled at his sarcasm. "Well, good," she declared, "because I want to take you all out."

Pascal arched a perfectly groomed eyebrow. "All of us? Scandalous."

"If you'd like to come," she offered. "It's not required, but I thought it would be fun." She held out the pamphlets that she'd quickly come up with that explained their itinerary.

Everyone decided to go, although there were varying levels of excitement. Skadi didn't seem to fully understand the purpose, but when she saw the bright red double decker bus, that was enough for her. They all took seats on the top level, and Lydia was glad that the sun was out and the weather was pleasant. She sat alone in the front row at first, trying to formulate a plan for the afternoon. She needed efficiency, since she wasn't sure how much time she'd have to devote to the guys for the rest of the week. As always, Naomi took priority.

In the beginning, she decided to stay in the front alone and offered answers to any questions that were posed about their landmarks. For security purposes, they weren't actually exiting the bus, but whenever everyone seemed particularly interested, she made a mental note for future reference.

Although she had thought of the tour as a fun way to welcome the Selected to Angeles, when Lydia noticed that the seat next to Rowan Dagwood was empty, she was suddenly much more thankful for the fortuitous situation she found herself in. After discussing the Selected with fire related powers with the fairies earlier, her curiosity had been sparked, regardless of Hazel's stance that they likely wouldn't be much help. Steadying herself against the double decker bus's movement, she made her way towards Rowan.

"Is this seat taken?" she asked. She'd tried not to sneak up on him, but Rowan jumped at the sound of her voice anyway.

He smiled when he realized it was her. "Not at all."

"What do you think so far?" she asked as she settled herself beside him.

"Oh, it's interesting," Rowan replied, gesturing with the little pamphlet that described the tour spots. "Good mixture of history and entertainment."

"Ozzie helped," Lydia explained, "I came up with the history, he was the entertainment."

"Do you hike at all?" Rowan asked, nodding at the shadow of mountain tops that were visible in the distance. One of Lydia's favorite things about Angeles had always been the varied landscapes. There were beaches, mountains, snow even if you went far enough east towards the border of Fennley.

"I used to," she admitted with a wistful smile. She thought about all the time she used to spend flying over the province and a deep ache erupted in her chest. She tried to ignore it. "Do you?"

Rowan nodded. "There are a lot of forests in Belcourt," he explained, "I spend a lot of time in them for work."

She was happy that he'd brought it up so naturally, as his work was exactly what she wanted to discuss. "Toxikinesis is an interesting power," she commented, "I've never met someone with it."

Rowan's easy smile faltered for a moment. He recovered easily and quipped, "I've never met a healer."

She smiled ruefully. "Touché."

After a moment of silence between them, Rowan added, "It is helpful in my work, I suppose. What about you? I can't imagine that much cause for healing comes up in your daily life."

"Just to combat my own clumsiness," she admitted. "Sometimes, I visit hospitals and animal shelters and things like that. I never really considered using it at as a profession though."

"I suppose it seems unimportant when your job has already been decided for you," Rowan agreed. He paused, as though he wasn't sure of his statement. "Uh, sorry if that was rude."

"No, not at all," shrugged Lydia. "You're right. A lot of things are already laid out for me." _At least until Naomi wakes up,_ she reassured herself. "Which makes other people's jobs a lot more interesting to me," she added, eager to learn more about this toxikinesis and whether it would be of any assistance to her.

"Well, perhaps sometime this week we can take a hike and I could show you in person?" suggested Rowan.

For as quiet as he was, Lydia was impressed with how easy conversation came to Rowan once you got him talking. "That sounds great," she agreed, feeling triumphant. "I'll figure out a day and get back to you."

As the tour continued on, she split her time between a few of the other guys so she had something to offer the next time Bex and Aunt Avery badgered her. While most of the guys seemed interested in the tour, Shivaay Armstrong was the kind of excited that was infectious and drew Lydia to him. She hadn't meant for the zoo to be included on the tour, but they had driven past it out of necessity, and after that, Shiv told her all about his parakeets: Pinku, Violet, Cheezits, and Birdo. Lydia made a mental note to take Shiv to the famous aviary that her mother had loved to take them to as children.

She also spent time with Creed Rosario, who was laid back and easy to talk to. When they came up to the legendary Port of Angeles, Creed told her about the different ports that he'd seen during his time as a cruise ship director. Lydia had never been on a cruise—royal yachts, of course, but an actual cruise was outside of the realm of possibility for her—and listened to his stories attentively.

By the time the bus slowed in front of the palace, they'd seen famous movie studios, theaters, beaches, the Central Angeles Public Library, botanical gardens, restaurants, and numerous other landmarks, like the Duke of Angeles' infamously gaudy mansion. It had been a pleasant afternoon, and it gave them all something to talk about, some kind of common ground, which Lydia was grateful for. She'd begun to develop an idea of who she would spent time with next—some out of necessity, whether it was their power or because she was unsure whether she had much chemistry with them; and some, because she genuinely enjoyed their presence. As she thought of this latter group, her eyes unconsciously drifted towards Gabriel Alba, who she hadn't gotten to spend time with. She was sad about it, because he'd kept everyone around him laughing and smiling all afternoon.

The bus unloaded, and Lydia was about to head back into the palace when she noticed one frown conspicuously absent. Joey hadn't filed out with everyone else, and Lydia lingered behind as Joey limped down the stairs. She could hear his injured leg hitting harder against the aluminum steps than his good leg, and she momentarily regretted the double decker bus. While it seemed fun at the time, she felt inconsiderate now.

When Joey finally made it off the bus to see her waiting for him, his brow furrowed. "Didn't have to stay behind," he muttered. He didn't stop to talk and instead kept walking towards the front of the palace.

Lydia had to take a few quick steps to catch up with him. "Um, is there anything I can do for you?" she asked. "Maybe call a doctor? Or… well, I don't know if you knew, but that's sort of my power—"

This time, Joey did stop walking and turned to glare fully at her. "I don't need your charity."

Her jaw dropped before she could help herself. She found his surliness oddly endearing if she was being honest, but when it unexpectedly developed into full blown rudeness, she was always taken aback. She'd also never had anyone decline the assistance of her powers. "I didn't mean—"

"I'm not broken," Joey snapped, "I don't need fixed. Sorry if I don't fit into the perfect princess's perfect life—"

"You don't know anything about my life," Lydia retorted before she could help herself. She'd never had a bad temper, but there was something about Joey that she'd noticed could fire her up unlike most people.

Her tone gave him pause, and he was spared the trouble of responding when Gabriel doubled back towards them. "Everything okay?" he asked, almost like he could sense that trouble was brewing.

"Perfect, apparently," Lydia declared sarcastically. She frowned at Joey, disappointed that their interaction had gone so badly once again, before she turned on her heel and stomped back towards the palace.

She swept past all the other Selected that lingered in the entrance hall, still chatting about their afternoon, and made a beeline towards Naomi's tower. As she took the steps two at a time, she silently berated herself for wasting the afternoon. Really, that was what she got for trying to pretend like nothing was wrong and she had time do something as silly as a stupid tour around Angeles.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note:** Hello! Welcome to the Day 1 of the 7 Day of Christmas! Okay, so I know what you're thinking. L.C., you're two days late. I know, and I apologize. I had a last minute motion that I had to write, so it put me a little behind. So now, we'll just be going two days past Christmas! Hopefully it helps the post-Christmas slump. So enjoy, and please review :) Tomorrow's update will be IWESTS if it kills me haha.

* * *

Though she would have taken back Naomi's accident in a heartbeat if she could, Lydia had to admit there was one upside to her sister's condition.

Growing up, she'd hardly realized how left out Cohen often was. He was the youngest of three, as well as the only boy. He'd often been bored by his sisters' activities, or if he was interested—such as in Lydia's flying—he'd be shooed away or declared a pain if Collette and Ezra insisted he be allowed to partake.

But now, Cohen was all Lydia had. Losing her sister had opened her eyes to how much she'd taken her brother for granted, and she'd tried to change that situation as much as she could every day since Naomi's accident. Maybe they'd never be as close as she and Naomi were, or she'd never fully understand what went on in the head of a teenage boy, but she tried, and she hoped that meant something.

Her latest way of showing she cared was reciprocating the breach of Collette's dietary standards that Cohen had committed to bring her cake a couple of weeks ago. It was early, so she'd decided on crepes instead of an actual dessert, but they were made with real sugar that she'd bribed a kitchen worker to bring for her. She wasn't actually a good cook, but Tom was usually willing to help her try, and she was pretty proud of what they'd managed.

Cohen's butler let her in, and the blonde teenager looked groggy and annoyed at the early wake up call until he noticed the tray that Lydia held. "Please tell me there's something unhealthy under that," he requested as he jumped out of bed.

"It's turkey bacon and egg whites," Lydia admitted, "but I did manage a little something." She revealed the crepes, complete with powdered sugar and whipped cream.

Cohen groaned appreciatively as he dropped onto the couch beside her and reached for a plate. "You're not half bad for a sister," he noted.

Lydia snorted as she dug into her own crepe. "I guess I'm going to mark that down in the compliment category," she decided.

They ate in silence for a while, enjoying their rare foray into the world of unhealthy deliciousness. When his plate was almost empty, Cohen asked, "So, how are all your boyfriends?"

The reference to just how many people she was technically dating at the moment made her laugh. "I assume they're fine," she shrugged, "You probably know them about as well as I do at this point."

Cohen gave a sly smile, like he hadn't been heeding their parents very specific instructions not to use his power to eavesdrop. "Some of them are pretty cool," he admitted.

"Yeah?" Lydia replied, an eyebrow raised in subtle interest. "Like who?"

"Shiv's cool, Charlie's cool," he ticked off, "Pascal's funny, but I think some of them—Joey and Alistair, mostly—have thought about killing him basically every day."

Lydia paused, chewing her lip. "Do you think Joey's… okay?" she asked.

Cohen shrugged. "I haven't really talked to him much," he explained, "He mostly keeps to himself. He smokes a lot, which I think is going to give Mom an aneurism." He paused, and his expression turned teasing. "Why? Do you liiiike him?"

Lydia's cheeks burned with embarrassment at being asked something like that by her brother. "No!" she countered. "It's just… I don't know, every time I talk to him, it's like we end up fighting, and I guess I'm not sure if it's me or him or the Selection."

With a quickness that she couldn't have fended off, Cohen grabbed the last piece of her crepe off her plate. "I think he's just like that," Cohen decided with a shrug as he chewed, "Just like gruff and grumpy, you know. Like Great Uncle Henry."

"Delightful," Lydia sighed.

Before she could ask any more questions, Cohen's butler reappeared, trailed by Ezra and Collette. They were both dressed casually, and Collette looked excited. "There you two are!" she beamed. "Your father and I thought this morning would be perfect for a family run."

Although Ezra tried to fix them with a 'don't you dare' expression, Lydia and Cohen both groaned dramatically. The thought of running after the enormous crepes she'd just inhaled made Lydia feel ill already. She briefly wondered if her mom had received a tip about the real sugar and had decided a run would serve as their punishment.

"Can we raincheck?" Lydia asked hopefully.

"No, my love, you can't take a raincheck on your cardiovascular health," Collette declared. She kissed the top of Lydia's head and paused. "What smells so sweet?"

Suddenly, Cohen and Lydia were both on their feet. "Alright, we'll meet you outside in ten, I suppose," Lydia declared. She glanced at Cohen's butler. "Hey, Frank, can you take these down to the kitchen?" Silently, she added 'immediately' with her eyes. The butler complied, although Collette followed the plates with a suspicious eye.

They reconvened on the front steps of the palace. Lydia wore a pair of black spandex running capris and a white t-shirt that bore the saying "will run for donuts." Because Lydia found it hilarious (and partially because it annoyed her mom), all her workout shirts bore some reference to junk food.

The palace grounds were expansive and thus the perfect location for all Collette's running needs. She always sketched a brief track out for them—today was around the gardens, up a hill, through the woods, and back past the stables. Lydia tried not to groan as she realized her mother had picked a particularly hilly path. She wouldn't be sore like everyone else post-run thanks to her healing, but that didn't mean that her muscles and lungs couldn't ache while she was doing it.

Collette usually led the pack, with Cohen close on her heels, and Ezra and Lydia at the back. Naomi used to join their mother at the front. Today, Lydia and Ezra hung far back. She got the feeling that her dad's particularly slow pace meant he wanted to talk to her. "Everything okay?" she asked.

"Just getting old," Ezra chuckled. "What about you? Things good?"

She had a feeling he was talking about the Selection but didn't exactly feel inclined to provide information about her dating life. "Yep," she nodded with a bright smile, "everything's great."

Her evasion wasn't deterrent enough though. "I know the Selection can be a little… well, uncomfortable at times," Ezra admitted, "but has everyone been nice to you? You know we'll take care of it if anyone is rude or oversteps boundaries or—"

"Everyone's been great," she assured him, "I think Aunt Avery has put the fear of god into them a little bit."

"She's good at that," Ezra chortled. "She says that you haven't spent as much time with them as she thought you'd be. Am I giving you too much work?"

Despite the burning in her thighs and the stitch in her side, Lydia still somehow managed to be overcome with guilt. "No," she assured him, "I've just been… easing my way in."

He nodded. "Anyone standout to you yet? I like the pizza boy. I think your mom has a soft spot for the one from Sonage, but if you don't feel prepared to handle a child—"

"Dad," Lydia laughed, "I don't know that this conversation could _be_ more painful between the awkwardness and the running."

Ezra laughed. "Okay," he relented. "We can talk about it some other time. I just want you to know that you can talk to me, Lyd."

"I know that," she assured him, even if her father wasn't at the top of the list of people that she planned on discussing her love life with.

"About anything," Ezra emphasized. He looked like he was going to reach out to pat her on the shoulder. Lydia knew that she had less control over her powers when her body was being taxed, as it was at that moment, so she sped up to avoid the contact. Her biggest fear was accidentally healing her father and having him remember just how much she'd screwed everything up.

She tried to ignore the look of disappointment on his face as she jogged away from him.

Collette gave in to the peer pressure of Lydia and Cohen's complaints after their third mile, and they stopped near the stables. Lydia and Cohen both dramatically fell into a field of grass while Collette rolled her eyes and Ezra chuckled. "You act like I'm torturing you," the queen noted.

"I mean, basically," Cohen decided.

"Is it still torture if there's a reward involved?" Collette asked.

Lydia and Cohen both looked up. "What kind of reward?"

"What about frozen yogurt?" the queen suggested.

"Barely a dessert, but I'll take it," Cohen decided, jumping to his feet. "You in, Lyds?"

Lydia sat up but didn't move to join her family. "You guys go ahead," she offered, trying to keep her smile steady. "I don't know that I could eat anything right now, and I sort of had a plan with one of the Selected that I should get ready for."

Her parents looked disappointed, but Collette wished her luck on her date, and the three of them started back to the castle, leaving Lydia sitting in the grass alone. She pulled her knees to her chest and hugged them for a moment, trying to chase away the overwhelming feeling of loneliness.

It wasn't that she didn't want to spend time with her family. She did. She always did. But she knew it was risky. If she accidentally got too close and healed any of them… She would never forget the pain and anger in her parents' eyes when they had heard what she'd done to Naomi. She couldn't bear to see it again.

And aside from that, it didn't feel fair. Naomi had already lost three years of her life. What kind of sister would Lydia be if she spent that time making family memories without Naomi, while her sister laid in a magically induced sleep that was directly Lydia's fault?

No, she wouldn't do that to Naomi. She'd already hurt her sister too much.

She gave herself five good breaths to be sad before she stood up and started to make her way back towards the palace. On her way, she passed the fairy-made lake that had been added to the palace grounds at Naomi's request when they were children. Usually, only ducks made much use of it. But today, they had company.

Gabriel Alba's face lit up when he noticed Lydia approaching. "Good morning!" he called, waving. He was dressed in a pair of swim trunks and standing on what looked like a short surfboard, an oar guiding him through the water.

"What are you doing?" Lydia asked, a little amused by the way he'd unbalanced himself by waving and the wobble that his board did.

"Stand-up paddle boarding!" Gabe explained.

"Have you ever done it before?" she continued as he wobbled again, this time a little more dangerously.

"No," laughed Gabe, "but Leif and Skadi told me it was fun, so I had to try it." He used the oar to steer himself a little closer to the dock. "Do you want to try?"

Lydia glanced at her workout clothes. "I'm not exactly dressed for swimming," she pointed out.

"Well, then, I'll have to be very careful to make sure we don't fall," he declared, his face lit up by his endearing, dimpled smile. He stopped close enough that she could step onto the board and held a hand out to her. "Trust me. It'll be fun."

His excitement was so infectious that before she'd given it a second thought, she'd shed her socks and shoes and stepped onto the board. They figured out it was easiest if Lydia sat towards the front of the board while Gabriel stood behind her and steered. It was more calming than she'd expected it to be.

"Leif and Skadi were right," she declared as she closed her eyes and turned her face up towards the sun to bask in its warmth. The sweat from her run had dried, and she was almost worried that she smelled, but Gabe didn't comment on it if she did.

"Do you workout often?" Gabe asked with a nod at her outfit.

Lydia laughed. "Only when my mother coerces us," she explained. "One of the… perks, I suppose, of my power is that I don't really need to. I've always been a healthy weight, don't have any health problems that I need to offset…" She shrugged. "Mom likes to include me while everyone's suffering, though."

He laughed. "That's kinda nice," he noted. "Doing family things together."

She thought of Naomi, and her heart ached. She decided to deflect the attention. "Are you and your family close?"

"Abuela and I are," he nodded. It almost looked like he was determined not to think about what constituted the rest of the family that she referred to.

"Are you missing home?" Lydia asked. She'd wondered over the last few days whether the Selected were homesick. She hoped they weren't, since she knew how painful it could be to miss someone you loved.

"Not at all," Gabe countered, "Just Abuela. But I call her every day, so it's been okay so far."

"I've never been to Midston," Lydia mused, recalling that it was Gabe's province.

"Oh yeah?" There was a forced note of casualness in his voice. "I swear there was some big hullabaloo a few years ago about the princess visiting with the King when he came to the Duke's 80th birthday."

Despite the sunshine on her skin, Lydia froze like she'd been dipped into an ice bath, the hair on the back of her neck standing on edge and her arms prickled with goosebumps. "No, I think Cohen went with Dad to that," she countered, trying not to trip over her words as she lied. "Prince, not princess."

The truth was, a princess had accompanied Ezra to that event. _Naomi_. But there was no way that Gabriel Alba should have been able to remember that.

He sounded somewhat disappointed when he agreed, "Yeah, I think you're right now that I think about it."

She glanced around, desperate to get his mind off the topic. "What's that?" she asked as she leaned over the edge of the board. Gabe leaned with her, and it was just enough to upset their delicate balance and send them both tumbling into the lake. When they surfaced, Gabe was laughing, and Lydia was able to relax again.

"Sorry about that," chuckled Gabe, "Everyone back home knows I'm a giant klutz, only fair that you know now, too."

"It's okay," Lydia assured him with a smile, "Grace isn't exactly my forte either."

Together, they managed to climb back onto the paddle board. It was difficult for Gabe to stand up again without threatening to send them back into the water, so he sat across from Lydia. "You're bleeding," she frowned when she glanced at his foot. Out of habit, she reached out, but when the warm, gold healing light disappeared, the line of blood was still on Gabe's foot.

He splashed some water on it to wash it away. "Must've scraped it on a rock," he shrugged, sounding unbothered.

Lydia continued to frown at his foot, which eventually made him laugh. "Everything okay?"

"I don't like that," she realized.

Gabe looked confused. "Uh, blood…?"

"No," she countered, "Not being able to heal you." She thought about it for a second before she realized, "It's never happened before."

"Don't feel bad. It's my power," he explained, "Barrier. No one's magic works on me."

She considered it. "Kind of weird," she admitted, "Magic is the reason you can't feel magic."

"The irony ain't lost on me," Gabe assured her. "Sometimes, I'm a little jealous. Some people have awesome powers."

She thought of how different things might've been if she or Naomi had possessed a barrier power. "I don't think it's bad at all," she countered, "Magic isn't always all it's cracked up to be."

He clearly didn't agree but didn't try to argue with her. She briefly thought about how someone else—like Joey, perhaps—would've responded in Gabe's shoes. It probably would've ended with them trying to drown each other.

"Tell me something," she decided, trying to move past the heavy subject of magic. "About your life or things that you like to do."

"Okay," Gabe nodded, "but you have to tell me something, too."

"Deal," Lydia smiled.

Gabe considered the question for a moment before he declared, "I _love_ cows."

Her first reaction was to laugh. "Cows?"

"They're the best," Gabe declared, "So calm and sweet."

"That is a very random favorite animal," commented Lydia.

"I'm a ranch hand," shrugged Gabe, "I spend a lot of time with cows."

"I don't remember the last time I saw a cow in person," Lydia admitted.

"Maybe I'll get to introduce you to one sometime," Gabe replied. He said it casually, like it would only be natural for him to introduce the princess to one of his favorite cows. "Now, come on. Your turn."

She thought for a few minutes. There were superficial things she could tell him—her favorite color, something fun about being royalty, a movie she really liked. But surprisingly, she wanted to share something deeper. She chalked it up to not having a lot of people to talk to candidly since Naomi's accident.

"I have my pilot's license," she declared.

It had the surprising effect she had expected. "Really?" Gabe sounded completely shocked.

Lydia smiled. "I used to love flying," she admitted, glancing up at the clouds. There was a time when all she had wanted to do was being in the sky. When she was the spare, all she'd wanted to do was be a pilot, and it had actually been within her grasp.

"Not anymore?" Gabe asked, seeming to have picked up on her past tense.

"I don't have a lot of time for it anymore," she told him. It was true. She had only flown once after Naomi's accident. "I miss it," she added, being more honest than she had intended.

Gabe looked determined. "Well, we should do it sometime!"

Lydia laughed. "You'd get into a plane with someone you barely know?"

"I mean, I entered a contest to marry someone I barely know," Gabe laughed with a casual shrug of his shoulders. "Why not, you know?"

"Touché," giggled Lydia.

"I'm serious, Giggles," Gabe declared, "We're doing this. I gotta see Her Royal Highness behind the wheel of a plane."

She picked up on the casual nickname. It was a lot friendlier than the ones Joey had used when she'd first met him. "My Dad used to call me Giddy Lydie," she commented.

"It seems pretty fitting, from what I've seen," Gabe smiled.

Ezra hadn't called her it in years. Lydia supposed it was partially because, no matter how hard she tried, she'd never managed to be the same carefree, genuinely happy person she had been before. A small part of her had always wondered if he'd stopped calling her that because he couldn't love her the same after he'd found out what she'd done to Naomi. She pushed the thought away.

"Tell me something else?" she requested. "It seems like people are always asking about me, whether it's because I'm a princess or some other reason. I like hearing about your life."

"Okay," Gabe smiled, his dimples lighting up again.

She liked listening to him talk, even if his storytelling tended to be nonlinear and included a lot of tangents. He told her about his Abuela's "famous" chilaquiles and promised to have her send some so Lydia could witness the magic in person. He recounted the unfortunate drunken circumstances that had resulted in him getting a butterfly tattoo on his back (and then showed her when she declared that she didn't believe it). He described his favorite holiday—New Year's—and the cookout, bonfire style celebration that they commemorated it with back in Midston in such perfect detail that Lydia felt like she could picture if perfectly, even though she'd never been to the province.

But even though he was telling her about things that made him laugh or happy, Lydia could tell that he was a little frustrated by the small town that he came from, that he wanted more than it had ever offered to him. He never mentioned his mother or father, and combined with what he'd told her earlier about his abuela, she assumed he didn't have a good relationship with them. He even told her about his flaws, how he had such a terrible memory that he often had to write things down to make sure he didn't forget.

He was so open that Lydia wondered if he might be a little too trusting. She wondered if she'd ever be able to open up with the Selected the way he was opening up wit her. It seemed impossible, especially when she had such a big secret hanging over her head.

They floated around the lake for the better part of two hours before Lydia admitted that they should probably get back to the palace. She was a little concerned about giving someone the wrong impression by spending so much unscheduled time with one of the guys, even if it was a guy as sweet as Gabe.

He managed to steer them back to the dock without sending them falling into the water again, and when they were both on dry land, Lydia smiled up at him. "I had a really good time today," she confessed.

"Me too," Gabe assured her. "I'm glad you showed up."

"I guess I'll have to thank my mom for her horrific family run after all," joked Lydia.

He chuckled at her joke, but his face was a little more serious as he stared down at her. Lydia was suddenly aware of a few different things: the fact that he was shirtless, their perfect height difference, the way that if she moved forward just a little bit, they'd be touching.

So, without thinking much, she did it. She leaned forward, raised herself up as high as she could on her tiptoes, and hoped that Gabe met her halfway so she didn't look ridiculous or tumble back into the lake. He did, and when his lips touched hers, her heart started hammering around her chest in a jumpy, excited dance.

He wasn't her first kiss, but he was her first Selected kiss, and she realized it meant something different. She also realized that, despite her insistence that she was just going along with the Selection to buy them some time while they tried to help Naomi, she felt something.

It was confusing and exciting and worrying and intoxicating and amazing all at once. She pulled away first. Gabe looked a little punch drunk, but when she met his gaze, he was smiling. "I've wanted to do that for years," he confessed.

Lydia laughed. "Uh, the Selection only started two weeks ago," she pointed out.

"Yeah," nodded Gabe, his cheeks turning red, "you were sort of my first crush though."

It was an oddly vindicating sort of thing to hear. "Did it live up to the hype?" she asked. It was mostly a joke, but she was interested in his response.

"It was better," Gabe assured her.

Given that they were both a little excited and embarrassed, they didn't discuss it further. Instead, she helped him fish the paddleboard out of the water, and they made their way back to the palace together, chattering about unimportant, easy topics instead.

The rest of the day wasn't nearly as eventful as her afternoon with Gabe. She sorted through some outfits that Bex had picked out for her, did some reading about fire fairies that she'd been meaning to get to, and had lunch with the guys in the Men's Parlor again. After, she played with Skadi on the swing set they'd had since they were children. She even managed to peek in on Naomi before dinner. She almost wished she hadn't, because the bruises had only gotten worse, and she went to dinner downcast.

After a day of hiding things from people that she wanted to be open with, she felt exhausted at dinner. People tried to engage her—the Selected, her family, the fairies—but she gave only mumbled responses. She felt bad, because she knew that everyone could tell she was in a poor mood, but it almost felt like she couldn't make herself smile if she tried.

And did she deserve to? That's what plagued her almost as much as her sister's deteriorating condition. How could she keep living her life, laughing with Gabe, playing with Skadi, going through pretty outfits that Bex concocted, while Naomi was dying?

Feeling overwhelmed, Lydia excused herself before anyone else. She thought about going straight back to her room, but she didn't want to risk her mother or aunt or Bex coming to see if she was alright, so instead, she slipped into the gallery.

The room had always been remarkably comforting to her. Her mother's art was beautiful, and the way that colors softly shimmered between shades fascinated Lydia. She left the lights off in favor of the soft glow that emanated from the magical paintings and slid to the ground against one of the walls.

There used to be paintings of Naomi in the room. They'd disappeared when the fairies had cast their curse, but Lydia was always painfully aware of the bare spots on the gallery walls where pictures of Naomi in her tiara or as a child used to hang.

She pulled a photo she'd taken from the fairies' room earlier from the pocket of her pants and gently unfolded it. The spell had masked most of her remnants of her sister as well, but—for a reason that Lydia didn't know but was grateful for—a few things had been left behind, like her starfish necklace and the wrinkled picture in her hand.

They were so young in the picture, thirteen and sixteen respectively, their faces pressed together as they beamed at the camera. It was before Naomi had dyed her hair lighter, and secretly, Lydia had always preferred her sister's dark brown hair. It set her apart from Lydia and Cohen, but it also made Lydia look deeper for resemblances, like their identical green eyes and the similarity in the build of their noses and chins.

Her finger gently caressed the smooth surface of the photo, pausing to cover her own face so that only Naomi smiled up at her. "I'd do it if I could," she whispered to Naomi's picture, tears stinging the corners of her eyes. "If I could take your place…"

But before she could get any further in her wallowing, the door to the gallery opened, a sliver of yellow light from the hallway briefly illuminating the room as a tall, thin figure joined her. She was too surprised to stand, and Alistair Lockwood was too surprised to fully enter the room, so they stared at each other from their respective places for a long moment.

"I'm sorry," Alistair finally offered tensely. "I didn't realize anyone was in here."

Lydia shook her head. "It's alright," she offered, "You're allowed to be here too."

He didn't look convinced. "Are you sure?" he asked. "I would hate to intrude."

Although she would usually respond instantly, to be convincing even if it wasn't true, she hesitated. But Alistair didn't seem like he said it just out of politeness. He seemed like the kind of person who knew what it was like to genuinely want to be on one's own and didn't want to intrude on that for someone else. And for all those reasons, she replied, "It's no intrusion at all."

He nodded, and while he entered the room fully, he didn't make any move to approach her. Instead, he turned towards one of the paintings on the wall and studied it. He didn't just look—he seemed to be reading it, like it was filled with words instead of colors.

Part of her wanted to leave him alone, but a larger part was intrigued by this boy that she'd heard so much about because of her family background. Truthfully, she'd expected him to be a little haughtier and condescending, like people who were born with the world at their finger tips unfortunately seemed to be, in Lydia's experience. Thus far, he'd only been quiet and enigmatic.

"I take it you like art?" she surmised.

He glanced over his shoulder briefly at her. "Yes," he nodded. There was a small silence before he added, "Your mother is incredibly talented."

Lydia smiled. "She'd love to hear that." Alistair only gave a noncommittal hum.

A few moments passed as Alistair studied the wall and Lydia studied him. But she couldn't read him like he read Collette's paintings, and finally, she defeatedly stood. "I'll leave you alone," she smiled. Alistair gave an appreciative nod.

As she passed Alistair, she hardly even felt the photo slip from her fingers. She wouldn't have noticed at all if he hadn't stooped to collect it. "You dropped this."

Her heart jumped into her throat as she watched him glance down at the picture. When he noticed her staring at him, he brusquely muttered, "Sorry," and held it out to her. She took it but couldn't bring herself to shove it back into her pocket.

For the first time since she'd met him though, he seemed genuinely interested in her. "Is she a friend?" he asked, almost like he couldn't stop himself.

Lydia paused, and it was long enough to give Alistair the chance to mumble, "Never mind. I don't want to pry." He turned back towards the art.

Lydia turned her gaze to the picture he was looking at. It was of a mountain cabin. Collette wouldn't remember if someone asked her now, but they had spent Christmas in the cabin one year when Lydia was nine because she and Naomi had petitioned for a White Christmas for months.

The tearful burn was back, and Lydia had to swallow the lump in her throat before she admitted, "She was a very good friend."

Alistair nodded like he knew. Whether he realized he did it, Lydia noticed his right hand potted the pocket of his shirt, like it held its own very good friend. "Was," he echoed.

Despite how nervous she had been to even remotely talk about Naomi with Gabriel earlier, now she couldn't help herself. It was vague, and she wasn't even sure if Alistair cared to hear, but she continued, "We haven't spoken in a very long time."

Another nod. To her surprise, he turned to lock eyes with her. "Did you part well?" he asked. His voice almost sounded hopeful. "Sometimes, it helps," he added, "if you did."

Suddenly, Lydia felt frozen, almost like she'd been jolted back to the last time she'd seen Naomi awake. She was trapped in the bushes, thorns ripping through her skin as her power worked to heal her, and she couldn't do anything as she watched Naomi disappear into the castle. She called after her sister, tears streaking her cheeks as she realized what an enormous mistake she'd made and the danger she'd subjected them both to.

As Alistair watched her, his brow furrowed. "You don't have to tell me," he offered briskly when he noticed one tear escape her eye.

She wiped it away, forcing a smile instead. "No," she confessed, "but I know that I'll get to see her again, and hopefully, I can make things better."

Alistair's expression was unreadable, but he noted, "Optimistic."

"I have to be." She folded the picture and tucked it away. "Goodnight, Alistair." She fled the gallery as quickly as would have been acceptable, realizing just how badly she needed to be alone.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note:** So it's only been forever. My bad *awkward smile* Anyway, this chapter is short, but I hope you still like it, and if you're still reading, please leave a review and let me.

* * *

Gray, cold, angry.

Everything was gray. The sky, the waves breaking on the rocks, the sand. Naomi thought that she might've loved this place once. But it wasn't the same. She was trapped in a perverted version of it, one where the sun never shone, and the howling wind whipped at her mercilessly.

On the best days, she just felt cold. On the worst, everything hurt.

And as she sat on the beach, staring into the water, she couldn't help the anger.

She tried to tell herself it was the curse, that it was poisoning her mind as well as her body. She knew she had loved people once, her family, Ben… But that once was beginning to seem so long ago, and she couldn't help the anger.

Why had they left her like this for so long? Why didn't they care enough to save her? And how dare they just move on with their lives while she suffered day in and day out?

But the worst was Lydia.

She supposed in some other situation she might've been grateful that her sister visited her so diligently. But all she could feel was resentment. It was Lydia's fault that she was trapped there in the first place. Why did no one else care to visit? And why did Lydia constantly torture her?

It was beginning again, she could tell. "No," Naomi whispered as she tried to hug her knees more tightly to her chest.

Lydia must have touched her. Naomi felt the warmth of her sister's healing powers begin to creep into her finger tips. For once, they didn't feel like ice. She indulged in the feeling as it slowly spread up her arms, breathing more easily. She drank in the feeling as the chill disappeared from her bones.

But then, just as quickly as it started, Lydia released her, and the warmth disappeared. In its place was left a more painful, bitter cold, and Naomi tried not to cry, knowing the tears would simply freeze her cheeks.

She dropped her head onto her arms. "Damn you, Lydia," she sobbed, unable to keep the tears at bay.

If she could've died, she would have. But she was trapped, and there was nothing Naomi could do about it.

* * *

Lydia tried not to cry as she studied Naomi. Somehow, even though Lydia didn't know how it was possible, Naomi's once beautiful face grew more skeletal each day as the bruises continued to pepper her skin. Most frightening was the blood that had begun to drip from her nose.

Lydia dabbed at it with a tissue. "There has to be something we can do," she insisted.

Hazel put a hand on Lydia's shoulder. "We're trying everything."

"No," Lydia shook her head. "Not everything." She could feel Hazel tense but pressed on anyway. "We haven't tried a fire fairy."

Tallulah was so surprised by Lydia's suggestion that she dropped the potion she had been stirring. Iris cleaned up the mess with a wave of her hand. "Fire fairies are difficult to come across, Lydie," Iris reminded her.

"And even if we did," continued Hazel, "they can't be trusted."

Lydia sighed in frustration, putting a hand to her temple. "Could things really get worse?" she demanded.

"Of course, Lydie," Tallulah frowned. "She could d—"

"She is already dying!" Lydia exclaimed, the hot prick of tears burning in her eyes.

"We'll find a way," Hazel insisted. She reached out to lay a comforting hand on Lydia's arm, but the princess jumped away. She threw Naomi's tissue down and fled the tower, unable to stand it for any longer.

It was still early, a side effect of the fact that she wasn't sleeping much. The bags under her eyes made that clear. When her parents asked, she brushed it off as a side effect of the Selection, which she could tell made them both feel guilty. But what else did she have to use as an excuse? She couldn't tell them about Naomi. She couldn't tell anyone, a fact that was starting to weigh more heavily on her.

Since she had time before she would be expected at breakfast, she decided to grab a cup of tea and try to relax in the gardens with Vito for a little bit. After wrangling her drink and her cat, she made her way to her usual spot.

It was a bench nestled beneath a willow tree that faced east over the hills and trees of the castle grounds. And surprisingly, it wasn't empty today.

Lydia froze, unsure of how to proceed. She was contemplating finding a new location, but Baloo noticed her first and gave a soft whine, alerting Fallon to her presence. She forced a smile when he turned to look at her.

"Your Highness," he greeted her, immediately standing to bow.

"Oh, please don't," Lydia hurriedly countered, thinking of what she'd read about his injury in his medical file. It had felt invasive to read that he'd lost part of his leg in an accident while he was in the military, but given the background checks that were conducted on the Selected, it was almost impossible for her to avoid.

He didn't bow, but he didn't sit down either. "Is this… your spot?" he guessed.

"Kind of," she admitted, "but I'd be okay with sharing if you are."

He hesitated for a moment. Not like he was considering how to decline, but more as though he was surprised by the offer at all. "Of course," he replied as he sat down, making sure to leave enough room for Lydia.

Lydia sat down on the bench beside him, settling Vito on her lap. Baloo seemed intrigued by the cat, but as a testament to how well-trained he was, he did little more than give Vito a quick inspection. Vito, on the other hand, took it upon himself to prance right over Fallon's lap and give Baloo an inquisitive poke in the snout with one of his paws.

"Vito!" Lydia admonished with a giggle as Baloo shook his head in surprise. "I'm sorry," she told Fallon as she pulled Vito back towards her. "I'd say he's forgotten his manners, but he pretty much acts like he owns the place all the time."

Fallon smiled tightly and patted Vito's head. Lydia laughed as her cat looked at the man as though he'd received a great insult. "Not a cat person?" she guessed.

"Not really," Fallon admitted with a small laugh.

"Are you usually an early bird?" Lydia asked.

"Not if I can help it," countered Fallon with a wry smile. "I guess I'm just adjusting to sleeping in a new place."

Lydia nodded, feeling guilty. The Selected had all been torn out of their lives, and she wasn't even planning on finishing the Selection. She wouldn't have to, after all. Once she saved Naomi, everything could go back to normal.

"What about you?" Fallon reciprocated.

She shrugged her shoulders and tightened her grip around her mug. "Just…"

"We don't have to talk about it," Fallon offered, like he sensed her hesitation.

She smiled, appreciative of his offer. "I just have trouble sleeping sometimes," she confessed.

"I know what that's like," Fallon nodded.

She thought back to his file, remembering that he'd also been diagnosed with PTSD following his military service. While it wasn't comparable to Fallon's military service, she couldn't help but wonder if the Naomi situation was traumatizing her in a similar manner.

If so, it was no more than she deserved.

"Has everything been alright for you?" she asked. "Accessibility-wise, I suppose."

Fallon's expression was drawn, and Lydia suspected that he didn't like talking about his injury. "Yes, thank you for asking," he replied politely.

"Cool," nodded Lydia, "So that's the last I'll ask about it."

"It's not the asking that bothers me really," Fallon admitted. He shifted, clearly uncomfortable. "It's most the reminder that once people know, they pity me, or treat me differently."

Lydia shrugged. "I don't pity you," she declared. He glanced at her, one eyebrow raised like he almost dared to believe her. "I don't," she insisted. "Everyone has… stuff. Some people it's their powers or things they've done in the past or things that have happened to them that they wish they could change. But it doesn't define them or change who they are." She stared into her mug of tea. She meant everything she'd said to Fallon but desperately wished she could approach herself with the same understanding.

A silence settled between them for a few moments. Finally, Fallon said, "That's a very mature way of looking at the world."

Lydia smiled. "I tend to surprise people in that regard sometimes."

"Pleasantly," Fallon noted, smiling over at her.

"We should probably get back for breakfast," Lydia noted as she realized that her tea was empty. Fallon nodded and stood, offering an arm to Lydia. It was a sweet gesture, and she accepted, letting him escort her back to the castle.

Breakfast with the Selected was always an interesting occurrence. Some—like Skadi and Cohen—resented the early eight o'clock hour, while others were already full of energy, like Pascal and Bex. Aunt Avery's presence made it even more interesting, as her power tended to draw the attention of the Selected even if they tried to help it.

Lydia took her seat between her mother and brother and turned her attention to her food while everyone else settled in. Shortly into her pancakes, one of the Selected seated closest to her caught her attention. "Have you ever been to the National Aquarium, Your Highness?" Logan Wyatt asked.

"I have," confirmed Lydia. "Not in a long time though. Do you like aquariums?"

He nodded. "I have a pet fish back home," he explained. The way he said it made Lydia giggle, as his fish seemed to be something he geeked out over.

"Would you want to go to the aquarium?" she pressed.

Logan looked surprised. "With you?"

"If that's okay," Lydia chuckled.

"Of course!" beamed Logan. "Whenever you're free, I'd love to."

"What about today?" shrugged Lydia. "I don't have anything on my schedule after breakfast."

Logan enthusiastically agreed, and after breakfast, Lydia met him outside the castle for their aquarium date. "I haven't been to the aquarium since we were kids," she admitted as they slid into the backseat of a car.

"I've heard it's the nicest in Illéa," Logan commented, clearly excited.

"From what I remember, it was great," she admitted. She tried not to linger on the thoughts though, as they inevitably involved Naomi. "So, you're a physical therapist, right?"

"Yeah," confirmed Logan. "It's pretty great."

Lydia smiled. "It's always nice to hear when people enjoy their jobs," she noted.

"It's kind of like your power," Logan added.

Mention of her power in a medical context always made Lydia pause, because it made her feel guilty that she wasn't healing everyone that needed it. She nodded. "I'd like to do more with my power," she admitted, "but then it becomes the question of when do you draw the line."

"It's just nice that you have such a positive power," Logan replied. "I've heard of some that aren't so great."

"It doesn't feel fair a lot of the time," she admitted. "We get ours just from being royalty. Everyone else earns theirs."

Logan swallowed nervously. "Well, some other people get them because of their family," he countered.

"Did you?" Lydia asked.

"Yeah." He set it quickly, like he didn't want to linger on the subject. "So, can you heal like anything?" he asked. It was an obvious change of subject, but Lydia didn't comment on it

"To an extent," Lydia admitted. "People, animals, plants. But if it's too serious, sometimes there's nothing I can do."

"Cohen told us you healed your cat," Logan smiled. "That's pretty cool."

It was nice to be complimented on her power for once, instead of focusing on what it couldn't do. "Thanks," she beamed.

When they arrived at the aquarium, they waited in the car while one of their guards spoke with the aquarium staff. One of the staff members joined them and offered to give the pair a behind the scenes tour, since it was safer than releasing Lydia into the general public.

They started with the mammals. "Most of our animals come to us because they were born in captivity and can't survive in the wild, or because they need rehabilitation," the staff member explained.

"Wow, to think you could've been a penguin rehabilitator," Lydia teased Logan, causing him to chuckle.

"Would you like to pet one?" the staff member asked. Logan immediately agreed, and Lydia followed along, though she wasn't actually committed to petting a penguin.

"This is Rosa," the keeper explained as she led a penguin towards them. "She was recently attacked by a seal. It's been a tough process, but she's on the mend."

Rosa was a very friendly penguin, though she walked with a limp from her accident. Seeing the penguin hobble made Lydia think of Joey, and a thought blooming in her mind, she reached out and set her hand on Rosa's injured side. She felt Logan's eyes on her as she focused, and a moment later, she knew it had worked because she felt drained enough that she had to sit down.

When she opened her eyes, she saw Rosa walk flawlessly back towards the enclosure.

"That is seriously cool," Logan declared.

She smiled. "Uh, would you mind getting a snack before we move on?" she suggested.

He agreed, and they decided to split a giant cookie while they were free of Collette's watchful eyes. "So your power kind of drains you," he noted.

"It's a trade off," she shrugged. "It can't come out of nowhere, I suppose."

"How do you… how do you control it?" he asked. "Like, how do you stop yourself from healing things every time you touch them?"

"It's the opposite," she explained, "I have to focus to make it happen."

Logan sighed, like he was disappointed that she didn't have a secret to control. "If you were curious about that though, you could talk to Iris," she offered, "She's an air fairy, so I think your power falls within her realm."

He perked up. "That would actually be cool, if it wasn't too much trouble."

"Not at all," shrugged Lydia, "I'll let her know." She grabbed the last bit of cookie and stood up. "I think we still have a few more things to see if you're interested." Logan grinned and stood up as well.

They spent the rest of the afternoon strolling through the aquarium. Logan had the brilliant idea of buying Lydia a hat and sunglasses from the gift shop so they could join the rest of the visitors without any hassle. It worked particularly well, except for a few eagle-eyed individuals that approached them. Every time Lydia encountered a member of the public unexpectedly, she was reminded at how good Naomi had been at handling the attention and how particularly bad she was.

But the afternoon passed without much trouble, and they made it back to the castle in time for dinner. Afterwards, Lydia planned on barricading herself in the library for the few hours to see if she could find any leads on fire fairies.

On her way to the library though, she noticed that Skadi and Leif were lingering down the hall. Leif held Skadi up as she looked at a picture of Lydia's grandmother, Queen Helen.

"Hi, guys," she smiled as she joined them.

"Your Highness." Leif bowed.

"We're exploring!" Skadi explained excitedly.

"Oh, really?" smiled Lydia.

Leif nervously rubbed the back of his neck. "Is that okay? We're not looking at anything personal or anything."

"Of course," Lydia insisted. She paused before she added, "I mean, if you needed a tour guide though, I do know my way around the secret passages pretty well."

"Secret passages?" Skadi gasped. She insistently grabbed Lydia's hand. "Please show us the secret passages!"

"You really don't have to," countered Leif, "You're probably busy."

Lydia thought of her plans for the rest of the afternoon: scouring the library for anything on fire fairies and sitting at Naomi's bedside. She always felt it was her duty to keep Naomi company in her comatose state, but she couldn't pretend that it wasn't wearing on her. "Actually, my night is pretty free," she countered, "if you wanted some company."

"Please, Pappa!" Skadi begged.

Leif laughed at his daughter before he sent a gentle smile at Lydia. "Yeah, that'd be great."

Lydia smiled in return. "Well, let's go then."

Although she wasn't sure what the secret passages had been built for originally, they were mostly forgotten by the inhabitants of the castle and rarely used anymore, except for the royal children. Lydia and Cohen had originally discovered them for stealing snacks from the kitchen, while Naomi had used them to meet Ben secretly when he visited. Now, Lydia mostly used them to escape.

But she didn't feel worried about sharing her hiding places with Skadi and Leif. Skadi's excitement made it hard to be concerned, and seeing how sweet Leif was with his daughter immediately warmed Lydia to him as well. In some ways, it reminded her of how her relationship with her own father had been before Naomi's accident.

She couldn't help but comment on this as they took one of the passages that led to the highest tower in the castle. It used to be Lydia and Naomi's favorite place to look for shooting stars or constellations. If their parents ever suspected them to be out after their childhood bedtimes, they would just dash into the passageway to hide. "You're really sweet with her," she noted as Skadi rushed to the window to stare out at the grounds.

Leif smiled. "She's the best thing that's ever happened to me." He glanced at Lydia before he added, "Are you close with your parents?"

She smiled sadly. "I used to be," she admitted, "especially my dad."

"What happened?"

She took a deep breath, and Leif quickly added, "Sorry. That's probably pretty personal."

"It's okay," she assured him. "I guess… I just became a different person."

Leif's brow furrowed, and for such a giant man, he looked oddly vulnerable. "The growing up is what I'm dreading most," he noted. "For the day she won't need her Pappa anymore."

A lump of emotion caught in Lydia's throat, and she tried to swallow it away. "We always need our pappas," she countered. Before Leif could pick up on her sadness, she joined Skadi at the window and pointed the Big Dipper out to the little girl. The squeal of delight that Skadi let out when she found it almost chased Lydia's melancholy away.

"Where are we going next, Lydia?" Skadi demanded cheerfully as the trio made their way out of the tower.

"Well," Lydia considered, "I could probably show you guy the Royal Vault."

"What's that?" Skadi asked, her nose wrinkled in confusion. She already clung to Leif's hand as they made their way through the stone passage, but she reached out for one of Lydia's as well, which forced a smile to Lydia's face.

"It is where we keep very special things," Lydia told her. She gave a pause to build suspense before she added in a conspiratorial whisper, "Like tiaras."

Skadi got so excited that she literally started bouncing up and down. Lydia was about to lead the way when she noticed a door to her left. She froze in place as her mind went into overdrive.

It looked like any other of the doors that led off the secret passage ways – wood, brown, nondescript. But Lydia had visited the tower hundreds of times throughout her life, and she knew that this door had not been there before.

"Is everything okay?" Leif asked, noticing her change in demeanor.

"Can we take a short detour first?" she asked. Skadi looked disappointed, but Leif gave her a 'behave' look, and the two followed after Lydia as she practically raced through the door and up the stairs that lay behind it.

"This is it," Lydia whispered to herself. When she reached the top of the stairs, there was another door. This door was outlined in characters that Lydia couldn't read but had seen before – fae. She threw open the door.

The only thing in the room was the book, placed on a pedestal. It was exactly as Iris had once told her. Lydia walked to the book, and taking a deep breath, she opened it.

They were separated by element. She flipped all the way to fire.

"Uh, what is this?" Leif asked as he and Skadi finally joined her.

"It's a register," Lydia explained as her eyes scanned the pages. "Of fairies. It updates itself. It records a fairy's birth, power, last known location, any house affiliation or powers they've gifted."

"You'd think a room like this would be locked," Leif mused.

"It's smarter than that," countered Lydia. "It doesn't always appear in the same place," she explained, "I've never seen it before now." Her breath caught in her throat as she finally found Agnimitra's name.

But the location hadn't changed, and Lydia's hands balled into fists. She knew where Agnimitra was, that had never been the problem. She turned her attention back to the page, looking for anything.

Then, she realized there was something smaller written under Agnimitra's name. "Of the Folkvardr family," she read.

Leif raised his eyebrows. "Folkvardr?"

Lydia glanced at him. "Yes. Does that mean something to you?"

"Uh, it's just Norse," Leif explained, "Old Norse, actually. It means 'guardian of the people.'"

Lydia's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "That makes no sense," she muttered, thinking of all the stories she'd ever heard about Agnimitra. She looked back down at the page.

"Are we going to see the tiaras soon?" Skadi whispered to Leif loudly.

Lydia glanced up and smiled. "Of course," she offered. There was no more she could glean from the book about Agnimitra anyway. She closed it, the word _Folkvradr_ bouncing around in her mind.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note:** Hello everyone! Sorry it's been a while, but good news - I'm graduating law school this Sunday! Studying for the bar is next, but I'm hoping that writing will be a sort of outlet and that you will get much more regular updates moving forward. I still love both of my stories a lot. I hope you enjoy, and please review if you have a chance :)

* * *

While Lydia had mostly adapted to her temporary role as crown princess well, one of the things that she had never been able to take in stride was her required presence at garden parties.

It was such a silly thing to hate so much, but oh, did Lydia hate them. When she was just a spare, she, like Cohen, hadn't been forced to attend. It was always a requirement for Naomi, and she performed beautifully as always, spending just the right time talking with the guests to make everyone feel special. She never betrayed her boredom, and could seem engaged in the most heinous, unending droning.

Lydia wasn't and would never be as good as Naomi. At the very least, she supposed this day would be better, because she had forced Bex and the Selected to come with her.

It was no hardship for Bex, who loved any party, especially one where she could dress up. She had found the most enormous hat in her collection and fluttered around the grounds like the social butterfly she was. Meanwhile, Lydia parked herself with most of the Selected and flagged down passing waiters for snacks.

"What is the purpose of a garden party?" Shiv asked.

Lydia sighed through a mouth full of appetizers. "Beats me," she shrugged. "Politics and schmoozing and all that."

"So, why aren't you, uh, schmoozing?" inquired Rowan.

Although the real reason was just that she was terrible at it, Lydia instead forced a bright smile. "So I can spend time with all of you!"

Joey snorted. "Almost bought it." Lydia threw a cupcake wrapper at him.

"Okay, fine, there are better snacks here," she declared, sticking her tongue out at Joey. "It's so hard to eat when people keep talking to you."

"We're glad that we can give you a reason to hide out," Leif offered with a friendly smile.

"We should play a game," Pascal declared.

"And here's where I leave," Joey declared. Before Lydia could protest, he stood and abandoned the group. She glared at his retreating figure but decided not to let it affect her afternoon. Returning her attention to Pascal, she chuckled, "I mean, unless you know how to play croquet, we're a little short on games at the moment."

"I have a brilliant idea," he gasped. "'Don't get me started.'"

They all stared at Pascal, and he looked amazed and horrified that they didn't know what he was talking about. " _No one_ has ever played this?" he demanded. There was a chorus of head shaking. "Oh my god, you poor, simple country folk. Okay, so basically you pick a super inoffensive topic, and then you have to go on like a full on rant about it."

There were varying levels of comprehension among the party's faces, so Pascal declared, "I'll show you. Pick a topic, Lydia."

"Hmm." She noticed a bee land on a flower near his foot. "Bees," she decided.

Pascal blew out a deep breath. "Do you know that bees literally defy the laws of nature?" he began. "Like, honestly, it is so frustrating to know that bees are the only ones people can really count on to continue keeping the flower population abundant? And don't get me started on their impact on avocados for all the hipsters like Shiv out there."

The group laughed, and Shiv glared at Pascal before muttering, "I don't even like avocados."

Pascal's eyes lit up, like he'd had a spark of genius. " _Also_ , The Bee Movie—yes, the one with Barry B. Benson, don't make that face, Shiv, I know you know and love it—is so underappreciated and should be viewed as a cautionary tale for everyone."

With a final deep breath he concluded, in a voice that was practically a yell, "Bees are just so freaking majestic, and they don't deserve the crap they get!"

There was silence among the group before Lydia and Skadi—and Leif, at Skadi's prodding—broke into a round of applause. "I don't know how anyone is going to follow that," Fallon noted in his even tone.

"I'll try!" Lydia declared. "What's my topic, o great Pascal?"

Pascal considered her for a long moment before he smirked, which made Lydia nervous. Then, he announced, "Bubbles."

Lydia nodded. "Bubbles. See, bubbles are just so…" She giggled, and she noticed Gabe smile at her giggle which made her blush and feel even more frazzled. "Bubbles just…"

But she couldn't think of a single complaint about bubbles, or a single way to even be passionate about bubbles. Bubbles were just… bubbles. She turned her gaze to Pascal, her eyes narrowed. "I think the most infuriating thing about bubbles is this is so unfair because no one can say bubbles in an angry voice or without laughing a little, so I think you were trying to pull a trick on me, Sir Pascal," she accused him.

Pascal smiled coyly. "I don't know what you're talking about."

She rolled her eyes but smiled. "I think it's safe to say you won this round."

"The strategy works every time," grinned Pascal.

"And what is the purpose of this 'game'?" Alistair asked.

"Nothing dude," shrugged Pascal with an easy grin. "It's just fun."

Alistair simply raised an eyebrow and sipped his wine in response.

Logan offered to go next, but before he could begin his rant, Lydia's attention was captured by a familiar figure approaching her parents. It was a face she hadn't seen in years, but one she had longed for, given that he had been like family. Before her mind could remind her of how different things were, she mumbled a vague, "Excuse me," to the Selected and made a beeline across the lawn.

The happiness put a spring in her step, bubbled up her chest and out her mouth in an excited greeting of, "Ben!" He turned towards her, just in time for Lydia to throw her arms around him.

She had been looking forward to his arrival more than she realized. It was the closest she had felt to Naomi in a while, and all she wanted to was to melt into Ben's familiar embrace and feel some kind of comfort that things were going to be okay. He used to pick her up and spin her, commenting on how tiny she was. She would squeeze him until he pretended to gasp for air.

But she realized how rigid and uncomfortable Ben felt, and instead of feeling any kind of relief, a fresh fear coursed through her veins. She glanced up at him, hoping to see any tiny flicker of recognition.

But how could he recognize her? His memories of her were so engrained with Naomi—they had always been so close, the three of them, never making her feel like a third wheel—that it was impossible for him to remember her. When she met his gaze, his eyes were blank, like she was a complete stranger.

It hurt more than she thought it would, and she quickly dropped her arms and took a step back. Realizing that she had to do it to save face and hating herself for it, she turned to Jia and embraced her as well. "I'm so excited to see you both!" she ground out, ignoring how traitorous the words felt.

Collette gave a forced laugh. "That's our Lydia," she commented, "Always very… friendly."

Ben laughed, too. It was forced as well—nothing like his real laugh. "It's very nice to see you again, Your Highness," he greeted her. "I believe the last time we met you were much smaller."

Six. She'd been six. Naomi had been sick for most of the Italians visit, so Lydia had met Ben on her own. It stung to realize that of all the good times they'd shared together, all the laughs and adventures, that was all he remembered. Her nose tingled with sadness. "It is so nice to see you again," she replied. "And so nice to meet you, Princess Jia," she added.

Jia smiled. She was even more stunning in person than she had been in the newspaper. "Thank you so much for inviting us," Jia began. Feeding off of Lydia's 'friendliness', she reached out for the younger girl's hand. "I'm very much looking forward to getting to know you and your beautiful country."

Lydia forced herself to count to three before she pulled away. "Me too," she lied. Finally, the tears began to sting at her eyes, blurring their figures. "If you could just…. Excuse me…"

She wanted to run away, but she made herself walk. When she was almost out of sight, she glanced over her shoulder. Ben had put an arm around Jia's shoulders, and she was beaming up at him like he hung the sun in the sky. Her eyes flickered away and landed on the Selected. Even worse, they looked… upset?

She wanted to kick herself. They had probably seen the whole thing and were wondering why a prince was even there in the first place. "You're so stupid," she groaned to herself, pushing away a few hot tears that had managed to slip free.

As soon as she turned the corner of the castle, she broke into a run. She needed distance—away from Naomi's tower, away from Ben, away from the Selected. She needed to be able to breathe and think and figure out what to do next.

But it was a stupid idea, because Bex had talked her into wearing a pair of wedges, and unsurprisingly, she was not very good at running in them. Her ankle twisted violently, and she flew face first into the ground. She managed to throw her hands out to break her fall, and when she steadied herself, she discovered that her knees and palms had taken most of the impact.

"Great," she sighed, sitting down to brush the gravel off of her bloody hands.

"You okay?"

She glanced over her shoulder to find Joey leaning against a nearby paddock. She was about to ask him why he was hiding over here until she realized that a couple of their horses were grazing in the enclosed field. It almost made her smile that he liked doing something so simple as watching the horses.

"Uh, no," she confessed. Her ankle throbbed, and she was bleeding more than she would've liked.

To her surprise, Joey pushed off the fence to take a step towards her. "Can I help you?"

"It'll be okay in a minute," she confessed. It made her a little uncomfortable to heel herself in front of Joey with his permanent leg injury, but she knew she couldn't put it off for long.

The pain in her ankle disappeared, and when she looked down, her hands and knees were good as new. "That's something," Joey noted.

"Yep," she mumbled. She sighed and laid back in the grass.

Although she had expected him to leave her alone now that she was physically fine, she was surprised when he took a step closer and peered down at her. "You sure you're okay?"

Lydia frowned, and not trusting herself to speak, shook her head. Joey sighed deeply, like he regretted asking. But instead of saying anything snarky or mean, he asked, "Wanna talk about it?"

Yes. But she had no idea where she could possibly even start. She opened and shut her mouth a few times, at a loss of how to explain anything without it all leading back to Naomi.

When he realized that she wasn't about to say anything, Joey offered her a hand. Lydia took it, and he heaved her to her feet. He quickly released her hand and started back towards the paddock. She frowned, feeling disappointed that he'd returned to his usual surly demeanor so quickly. But he paused at the fence and asked, "You coming?" before he slid between the rails into the field.

Though she was confused, Lydia hurried after him. It took a moment for her to maneuver between the rails because of her dress, and she had to run to catch up with Joey. "Are we allowed to do this?" she asked.

He barked out a laugh. Lydia realized it was the first time she'd heard him laugh, and it suited him—brusque and short. "You own the place, don't ya?"

She supposed that was fair. "I just mean, they're not going to be like… scared of us or anything, are they?" She knew how to ride a horse, of course, but she had never spent as much time around them as Naomi had. Her sister had been a very skilled equestrian.

"No, these are the sweethearts," Joey declared. As if to emphasize his point, he caught the nose of the horse closest to him and gave it an affectionate pat.

Lydia gently patted the horse closest to her. It was gray with a white mane, and it glanced over its shoulder to see who had joined them. "Well, what are ya waiting for?" Joey asked.

"What am I supposed to do?" Lydia replied, confused.

"If you can't talk to me—or probably anyone else, cause I think you would've done that before running through a field in heels like a madwoman—talk to them," he suggested. "They're good listeners."

She figured it couldn't hurt anything. After glancing to make sure Joey wasn't paying attention to her—he wasn't, his back already turned to her as he stroked a large bay horse near him—she leaned her head against the gray horse's shoulder and gently drew her hand up and down its neck. "Ben doesn't remember," she whispered, the hot tears burning her eyes again, "and it's all my fault."

The horse's ears flicked back towards her, as though it was actually listening. She continued on, "We had to do it though. After my parents…"

She had been frantic. After she'd gotten Naomi home, she didn't know what to do. She'd gone to the fairies, and Hazel had brought her parents to the tower. She could almost remember the exact tone of her father's voice—the mixture of horror and disappointment and absolute heartbreak—as he'd whispered, "What have you done, Lydia?"

"They had to forget," she whispered to the horse. "Just until we fix this."

She paused before she added, "I miss my best friend, though, and how things used to be."

She whispered a while longer, until she didn't feel like there were any words demanding to be spoken aloud, and when she joined Joey by his horse, he pretended not to see the tear streaks on her cheeks. "Feel better?" he asked.

"Kind of," she admitted. "Do you feel better after talking with them?"

"Kinda," he shrugged.

"Well, thanks," she smiled. "This was really nice of you."

"Don't go makin' me regret it," retorted Joey.

She rolled her eyes. "I think you're a lot nicer than you let on, you know."

"I'm not," he countered with a shake of his head. "I think you might just be a pretty bad judge of character."

"Maybe I just see the best in people," she shrugged.

"Well, good thing you got that power to stop you from ever getting hurt, Princess Peach," he chuckled, "cause from my experience, people can be pretty bad."

She watched him pat the horse beside him with a gentleness that surprised her. She was amused by her newest nickname, but she supposed a video game character was better than 'money bags.' "I'm sorry I snapped at you after the bus the other day," she muttered, thinking back to their last interaction.

"Pretty sure I started it," Joey reminded her with a rueful smile. "Usually do." He paused before he added, "Sorry I assumed everything's perfect with you. No offense, but you seem like you got some issues."

Lydia laughed at his bluntness. "If you only knew," she admitted.

"I'd like to be friends," she added, deciding to try her luck before Joey turned into his usual doom and gloom self again.

He grimaced. "Don't really have any of those."

"Well, now you do," Lydia declared.

He glanced at her from under his mop of unruly hair. "Doesn't seem like I have much of a choice in this," he commented.

"You don't," she shrugged. "So start getting used to it."

He didn't say anything but nodded, and Lydia thought she saw the tiniest hint of a smile. "There's something I need to take care of, but do you think we could maybe do this again sometime?" she suggested.

Joey gave an elaborate bow. "At your disposal, Princess Peach."

"I'll see you around," she smiled before she started to make her way back to the castle. She finally felt ready to do something she had been avoiding.

From an early age, Lydia had understood the dynamic between the three fairies that lived at the castle.

Hazel was, of course, the leader. It was something that anyone who met Hazel could easily tell. She had an easy air of authority about her and a commanding presence. She made the final decisions, and it was often impossible to sway Hazel's mind or opinion once it was made up.

It made sense that Hazel was in charge. She was one of the fairies who had brokered peace between the fairy community and the humans. Before that, fairies were hunted, often killed so that their powers could be utilized by their persecutors. They, in turn, attacked in retaliation and out of fear. It was a miracle that decades of mistreatment could be settled, but somehow, Hazel had managed it.

Iris was the second in command. She wasn't as old as Hazel, but she came from a prominent fairy family. Her grandmother had helped Hazel lead them from the dark days. Iris was smart, eternally loyal to Hazel, and powerful. It made sense that she had been picked to succeed her grandmother when she had faded.

Tallulah was the surprise pick. She had no connection to Iris, Hazel, or the previous water fairy that had served at the palace. She was the youngest, and Lydia's generation was the first she had granted powers to. She wasn't from a prominent family.

But Tallulah had worked hard to get to this position. She had worked to put herself through Orzyn Academy, one of the premier magic schools in Illéa. After that, she had been offered a position in the Angeles Cove. The Coves were sacred locations, once sanctuaries for fairies in the days that they had been hunted. Now, they served as centers of history and culture, places for fairies to hone their crafts outside of what the ordinary fairy might do.

It was here that Tallulah had caught Hazel's attention, and she had been handpicked to join the other two, much to the fairy community's surprise. Tallulah knew she was an unlikely candidate, and because of it, she always seemed to work a little harder. She tried to innovate, problem solve. One of her most important goals in life was to make Hazel proud.

And though she felt a little guilty, it was this desire that Lydia played on when she sought Tallulah out alone. She knew that Hazel was visiting an arboretum with Collette, and Iris was being consulted by environmental boards about air quality in the capital.

"Hi, Lydia," Tallulah smiled when the girl stepped into the tower. "Here to see Naomi?"

"No," countered Lydia, "I actually wanted to talk to you."

Tallulah looked surprised but pleased. She was stirring a pot of liquid and set it aside to give Lydia her full attention.

Lydia didn't hold back. "Tallulah, we need fire fairies."

Tallulah looked alarmed, understandably so. Hazel had already vetoed the idea, so that should have been the end of it. "Oh, Lydia, I can't—"

"You have to know one," Lydia pressed, "Or know _of_ one. Tallulah, I'm desperate. Naomi is getting worse every day, and Ben is about to make the biggest mistake of his life, and they're both in these positions because of _me._ "

Tallulah's brow furrowed in sympathy. "Oh, Lydia," she sighed, "I wish you weren't so hard on yourself. It could've happened to—"

She shook her head. "I have to fix it, Tallulah. Please help me."

Tallulah chewed her lip. After a long silence, she finally sighed, "I know someone. Someone who might be… motivated to help us."

"Who?" Lydia asked eagerly.

"His name is Castor," Tallulah explained. "I knew him from the Cove." She paused before she added, "There are… rumors. That he's connected to Agnimitra someone."

Lydia furrowed her eyebrows. "Like related?" Tallulah nodded. "Could we trust someone like that?"

"I don't know that we can trust any fire fairy," Tallulah admitted, "but Castor always seemed like a good person. And if he is related to Agnimitra… he might be strong enough to help us undo her curse. And if he's not—" Tallulah cut herself off.

"What?" Lydia encouraged her.

Tallulah sighed. It was clear that she was thinking about how much trouble they could be in if Hazel knew what they were planning behind her back. "He has a brother," she confessed, "Uriel. If Castor isn't powerful enough on his own, perhaps together he and Uriel…"

"Two fire fairies," Lydia breathed. It was better than she could have ever imagined.

"But there are… questions… about Uriel," Tallulah countered. "He doesn't live in society like Castor. He's reclusive and from what I've heard, there have been whispers about whether he sways light or dark."

"We have to bring them here," Lydia decided. "Tallulah, it's the best chance that we have. And there's no way he could try anything bad with you, Hazel, and Iris around."

After a long moment of contemplation, Tallulah reluctantly nodded. "I'll contact them," Tallulah promised. "But I don't know how there's any way we could get them to the palace without Hazel finding out first and ending it before we could even talk to them."

A smile slowly grew on Lydia's face as an idea sprang to life in her head. "Leave that part to me," she declared.

And that was how she ended up in the Men's Room later that evening. "We're having a ball," she announced.

The Selected responded with varying levels of interest. Joey rolled his eyes and picked up his racing magazine, Pascal punched the air in excitement, and a few guys, like Gabriel and Charlie, exchanged nervous looks. "But not just any ball," Lydia continued, "A masquerade. And we tend to go all out for those kinds of things here at the palace, so I encourage all of you to be creative, because you will be judged."

"Like a costume contest?" Pascal asked. While some of the guys might have been daunted by the task, he was clearly bursting with joy.

Before she could explain that it wasn't _actually_ a contest, a voice interrupted and declared, "Sure. Loser has to go on a date with Lydia."

She glared at Cohen as a few guys chuckled at her obnoxious younger brother. "More like winner is safe from the wrath of Bex, who holds theme parties at the highest of regards," she countered. She could already imagine how many sketches Bex would be concocting that night for their own outfits.

"Is this party for the Italian prince?" Alistair asked bluntly.

Lydia knew that some of the guys were probably surprised—or intimidated—by Ben's appearance. She hadn't thought of it when she had invited him, but it had been clear from their faces after Ben's arrival that morning. "In honor of his engagement to Princess Jia," Lydia explained. But saying the words made her stomach churn, like she was somehow betraying Naomi. "Prince Benedetto's family and ours share a long and friendly history," she emphasized.

"Well, it will be nice to get to celebrate your friend, then," Creed declared, making Lydia smile. It was a sweet and generous gesture on his part.

"I can't wait to see all of you there," she beamed.


End file.
